Haunting Hal
by ShoePigeon
Summary: When Sir Henry Yorke decides to have a snack, he ends up getting a bit more than he bargained for. Hal and OC. Reviews very welcome.
1. Prologue

**Ok, my first attempt at a FanFic! This is just a prologue to sort of set the scene then the rest of the story will be written as one massive flashback. I hope you like it.**

**I think some sort of disclaimer is required so... Being Human belongs to the amazing Lord Toby Whithouse, not me. Blah, blah, blah, whatever else it is im supposed to say here.**

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**Prologue**

Hal sat slumped in the chair. His hands were shaking, his wrists were raw and his clothes were drenched in sweat but he was smiling. Finally, after an hour and a half of struggling, the knife was in his hand. The knife that Alex had so kindly left on the stool beside him when she had stormed out following his rather well timed criticising of her potato peeling technique.

'Make your own bloody shepherd's pie then!' she had yelled before she rent-a-ghosted away. If he was honest he didn't really care, he had had enough ghost-made shepherd's pies to last him an eternity, for some reason they seemed to have a fascination with them, but none of that mattered now. He had the knife, he could cut himself free from this godforsaken piece of wood and then he could step out of this hell hole, back into the life he deserved. The life he knew. The life he wanted. Or did he? The seconds stretched into minutes as he stared at the knife in his shaking hand. Something an old friend had once said was slowly creeping its way forward from the deepest corners of his memory.

'This is the moment Hal, what you do now will change everything.' He bit his lip, this felt exactly the same as it did before, he knew what would happen if he went through with this, knew what he would become, was he really willing to waste the last 55 years? He bit down harder on his lip and accidently drew blood. It filled his mouth with its beautiful coppery taste and although he received no kick from his own blood, it was a taste, a promise of what would come if he chose to leave. He made up his mind.

He look a few deep breaths to steady his shaking hand and twisted the knife so that he could begin to saw through the thick leather belt around his wrist that was binding him to the chair. His breath quickened, knowing he was close to freedom but just as he was about to cut through the leather, he saw something move out of the corner of his eye. He glanced up, covering the knife with his hand, assuming Alex had returned and cursing himself for his moments hesitation but Alex was nowhere to be seen. Instead he saw something that drove her far from his mind.

His eyes widened and very nearly dropped the knife. The television had flickered on and on the screen was a girl. She was wearing almost nothing. What remained of her undergarments were torn. Her long mousy brown hair flowed down her chest in ringlets and kept her dignity. Slowly she walked forward so that her head and shoulders filled the screen. She smiled. It was a beautiful, radiant smile. Her soft pink lips parted to reveal her perfect white teeth and wrinkles appeared at the corners of her penetrating, deep blue-green eyes that were looking straight into Hal's.

Hal stared at the girl, taking in every detail of her appearance. He knew her. He knew her hair and her lips and her teeth. He knew her eyes and her smile and her laugh. And he knew her neck.

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**So I hope you liked it, please review. I'll try and get the first proper chapter up ASAP and it should be a lot more interesting and longer too. :)**


	2. Typical Man

**Ok, Chapter 1. I just want to say a big thank you to Rideawhitehorse for all the historical information as I am useless at history, which isn't good when you're writing about a 500 year old vampire.**

**Also thanks to SAINTIXE56, 0positiv and lozzielo for the reviews :)**

**Once again, I don't own Being Human**

**UPDATE: I changed the date slightly because I found that the queen had died 4 years before my original date, it doesn't really make much difference though.**

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**Chapter One: Typical Man**

**7th February 1619 **

He was sleeping. Actually sleeping. After what he had done last night, he was sleeping. Well, at least she thought he was. On closer inspection she had discovered that he wasn't breathing. Perhaps he was dead? But then again, perhaps not. If he was dead then surely, right now, he would be doing the same thing as she was: sitting on the bed and staring at his own corpse. For that's what Izzy had been doing for the last few hours: sitting on the bed and staring at her corpse, or at least what was left of it. Someone who had just walked in would be forgiven for thinking it was several, for it was impossible to tell, she had literally been torn to pieces and scattered all over the room. Strangely enough there was not much blood though…

She had to laugh at the irony of the situation, this was exactly what her father had said would happen to her, right before he threw her out. Well, not exactly what he had said, nobody could have predicted _this,_ but in so many words…

'If you carry on with your wicked ways like a common harlot then you will end up dead in the gutter and living in torment in the deepest pits of hell!' Izzy always thought he was being melodramatic. He was wrong about the hell bit though and she wouldn't call herself a harlot, she was just always falling in love, and well, when you meet Sir Henry Yorke, you can't help but fall in love.

She remembered the first time she had seen him. She had just arrived at the Tower. Her cousin had managed to find her a place there as one of the Queen's ladies after her father had thrown her out, she was less than happy. Her life plan (find a rich man, get married, live happily ever after) was slowly fading away but as soon as she saw Sir Henry Yorke ride past on his white horse with his red shield, she knew that that was the man she was going to spend the rest of her life with. In the following weeks she had turned on the charm, she had fluttered her eye lashes, laughed and flicked her hair and finally, last night at the feast, he had asked her to dance. She had had so many hopes and dreams, her wedding dress design, where they were going to live, what they were going to name their children… she felt herself well up as she realised that none of that was going to happen now.

She looked at him. So handsome, even though he was covered in blood. With his eyes and his hair and his smile and his chest… that chest...

Suddenly the room was filled with the bright yellow glow of sunrise, coming in from the window. The light fell directly onto Henry who immediately jerked awake and clumsily crawled out of the pool of sunlight. He shook the sleep from his head and surveyed the room as if trying to piece together the events of the previous evening and a small smile crept its way onto his face. Chuckling, he got up and approached the bed. Izzy assumed he was about to talk to her. She bit her lip, what do you say to the incredibly good looking man who murdered you? But instead of talking to her, or even looking at her, he bent down, reached under the bed and pulled out a bowl of water and a cloth and began washing the dried blood from his face and body. Once he was finished, he pulled out some clean clothes and began to get dressed.

'Good morning' she blurted. She thought she deserved a good morning, all of the others had at least given her that. He paused for a split second in the act of buttoning up his doublet but then carried on as if nothing had happened. He pulled on his boots and left the room.

'Wait!' Izzy followed him out the door, she was used to men walking away the morning after but this one had done a lot more than just screw her and he had always been so polite before. She hurried after him as he turned left into the main corridor. It was full of people: gentlemen of on a morning hunt, servants carrying out their chores, ladies sneaking back to their own rooms. Izzy was surprised by how full it was, she was never usually up this early, especially not on the morning after a feast. Suddenly she felt very naked, and pulled the remanence of her chemise around her. It was not right for women to walk around half naked anywhere, especially not at the court of his majesty King James I. She could go back to the room now, before any one could see her, avoid getting into serious trouble but Henry was rapidly disappearing into the crowd. No. She was not going to let him get away with this.

Wishing she was invisible right now, she scurried after him and to her very great surprise nobody seemed to notice her. Now either nudity at court was something that was a lot more socially acceptable than she had thought, or something was wrong. Her suspicions were proven when the hunting party approached. They filled the width of the corridor, laughing and joking about last night's various… exploits. Henry had just squeezed past them and she followed. She fully expected the men to say something about her attire but, like everyone else, they ignored her and when she went to squeeze past them, one of them walked straight through her. She stopped, dead in her tracks, did that actually just happen? Experimentally, she stood in front of a woman who also continued as if Izzy wasn't there.

'Ok, so I'm invisible' said Izzy, to no one in particular 'and it appears I cannot be heard either.' She sighed, of course she was, she was dead and you don't usually see ghosts wondering around. Because that's what she was, a ghost. She stood there for a few moments, pondering her current predicament, then she remembered why she had been there in the first place and continued down the corridor.

She caught up with Henry at the bottom of the main staircase. He was talking to his friend, Lord Charles. Confident that they could not see or hear her, Izzy walked up to them to listen to their conversation.

'Relax Charles,' sighed Henry, 'these nobles are far too mixed up in their pathetic little lives to pay us any attention. Just get rid of the body.' It was an order. Izzy was shocked, a knight never spoke to a Lord like that.

'Hal, the body isn't the problem, it's the girl. What if somebody comes looking for her? What if someone saw you leave the feast with her last night? What then? Outside of these walls our kind are being hunted. Do you want to end up with a brick rammed in your mouth? You have to stop doing this!' Izzy frowned, did he just say what she thought he said? Henry had killed people before? And what did he mean by 'our kind'?

'I'm sure no one will miss her.' Stated Henry. Izzy was about to open her mouth to put forward an unheard argument but then realised he was right.

'How do you know?' retorted Charles 'Do you even know anything about her? Do you even know her name?' Izzy laughed of course he remembered her name, didn't he? She turned, expectantly, to Henry, who opened and closed his mouth a few times then shook his head.

'It's Isabella' she said, through gritted teeth. 'Jesus! Typical men! They're all the same!'

'Look Charles,' hissed Henry, Izzy could tell he was getting slightly angry now, 'I didn't give you this gift so that you could tell me what I can and cannot do. Now go upstairs, and get rid of the body. Put it in the woods, make it look like an animal attack or something, there isn't much left.'

Charles must have sensed Henry's anger too because at that moment he sighed and left to go and clear up Henry's mess. Henry strode away in the opposite direction. Izzy was left alone. So this was how it ended. People thinking she had been mauled by some wild animal. Her father would be told, would he even care? She didn't think so.

So, what to do now? In a world where no one could see her, no one could hear her, at least she didn't have to worry about wearing nothing but a chemise for the rest of… of what? Her life? She didn't have a life any more. Eternity? Was she going to be stuck like this, here but not here, forever?

'Well,' she said to herself, always the optimist, 'If I'm going to be around for an eternity then I'm not going to waste it. I'm going to make life hell for the typical man who ended mine' and with that she strode off after Sir Henry Yorke. This was going to be fun.

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**So I hope you enjoyed, reviews very welcome :) **


	3. The Fun Begins

**Chapter 2! Sorry it has been a bit of a wait, I had a bit of a shock when I realised that my exams start in 2 weeks so im not sure when my next chapter will be out either.**

**Thanks to ****SAINTIXE56 and ****Rideawhitehorse for historical information.**

**********Thanks to Nikki Anna, 0positiv, lozzielo and WhiteHare for the reviews.**

**********Thanks to anyone who has added me as story/author favourite/alert.**

**********I don't own Being Human**

**********Hope you enjoy this chapter, it was very fun to write, I got a bit carried away so it is a little bit longer than the last one. :)**

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**Chapter 2: The Fun Begins**

**10th ****February 1619**

Izzy started small. First she rearranged his bed chamber, then hid some of his things and even went so far as to loosen the strap on his horse's saddle so he fell off (she couldn't believe it when he walked away without a scratch) but he showed no sign that anything was wrong. When she stitched up the ends of his sleeves and trousers while he slept, and still didn't get a response, she decided to take things up a level.

The evening occured in very much the same way as the previous two. Izzy followed Henry and Charles as they went to their preferred tavern and talked and laughed and drank. She then followed them back to the Tower, followed Henry as he stumbled back to his bed chamber and collapsed on to his bed. She watched him until he fell asleep and then sprang into action.

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When Hal woke the next morning the ghost was gone. He checked under the bed, out in the corridor, behind the curtains but she was nowhere.

'Finally' Hal laughed. The stupid bitch had been following him around for three days now. Three days of silly comments that she thought no one could hear and pathetic little pranks that had been oh so easy to ignore. She had been getting quite irritating though. He wondered for a few moments where she had gone, then reminded himself that he didn't care.

He dressed and left the room, he was going hunting with Charles and some of the other nobles today, it was good to keep up pretense, let them believe he was one of them. In a way he enjoyed it, being in the upper classes, it was so different from his humble beginnings but something he had always aspired to. When he was questioned about his human life, he merely replied that he was a soldier and changed the subject. He would never tell anyone the truth about his origins, he didn't want them to think differently of him, to think he didn't deserve his position, his reputation. He had worked hard to get to where he was today, leader of London, and he wasn't going to give it up.

He entered the courtyard and flinched as he was bathed in morning sunlight. Once the initial irritation subsided, he made his way over to where Charles was waiting with the other nobles and their horses.

'Morning.' Charles called cheerfully as Hal approached. Hal nodded in return. Although he would never admit it, Charles was the only person in the world whom Hal would ever consider a friend. He remembered the first time he had met Charles, they had both been part of a hunting party, back in 1576. Charles had been one of the nobles, hunting for sport but Hal had been one of the servants, in charge of beating the bushes to scare out the prey.

The werewolf had come out of nowhere. It had charged at Hal, sensing the vampire as a tastier meal than the humans and horses. Charles was an incredible archer, he caught the dog straight in the eye with one shot. The beast died instantly and the entire party watched as it reverted to human form.

Hal couldn't let them live, not after seeing _that_, these things had to be kept secret. He killed them and drained them, all but one, and feeling slightly blood drunk he strolled over to the last man, the human who had killed a werewolf, the human who had saved his life. Charles was sitting, back against a tree, paralyzed by what he had just seen. Hal had crouched in front of him, so he was at eye level.

'I'm going to kill you now,' He had said, 'but unlike the others, I'm going to give you a choice. You could simply die, just like the others, completely unremarkable but I don't want to do that. Tonight you have done something that some men ten times your age have not accomplished. You killed a werewolf, and that makes you very remarkable indeed. I can give you a new life after you die, a life everlasting, you just have to say yes.'

And of course, he had. Charles was Hal's first recruit, he had avoided it in the six decades beforehand, he didn't know why, perhaps he didn't want the responsibility, he was having too much fun but Charles was special. He had been good for Hal, finally got him to settle down and take some responsibility, and if he hadn't done that then he wouldn't be where he was today. He owed Charles a lot more than just his life, not that he was going to ever let him know that.

Hal walked over to his horse and began checking its saddle, just in case the ghost had left him a parting gift, it had been incredibly humiliating falling off two days ago, not to mention painful. Charles watched him and out of the corner of his eye, Hal could see the frown on his face.

'Hal…' Charles started. His voice was cautious, like it usually was when he was about to say something he knew would displease his maker.

'What?' Hal replied, annoyed that his good mood was about to be spoiled and dreading what Charles would have to say.

'Someone's written the word "murderer" on your forehead'

'What?' Hal repeated, wanting to have misheard. Charles merely nodded, staring at Hal's brow with a mixture of fear, pity and amusement on his face. Hal took three strides to the horse's water trough and looked into it before remembering that he had no reflection. He rubbed at his forehead and when he drew his hand away, his fingers were black, charcoal.

'FUCKING BITCH!' He yelled as he stormed back inside, leaving Charles and the bemused nobles behind. She had humiliated him again, he hated being humiliated. He rushed into the main hall to get to the stairs on the other side and return to his room but was stopped short. There it was, in letters four foot tall, scrawled across the wall, "MURDERER."

His hands were shaking with anger now, a small crowd had drawn around the graffiti and it was all he could do not to tear the throat out of the nearest few people, in front of everyone. He quickly crossed to the staircase and made his way to his bed chamber, but the word was every where he went, all over the walls, the floor, even across several incredibly valuable paintings and tapestries. He didn't understand, they hadn't been there on his way down to the courtyard, the girl must be writing them this very moment all around the Tower. He had to admit it, she was good.

When he entered his bed chamber, he saw exactly what he expected to see, this room had been hit the hardest. Every surface was covered in charcoal, calling him, not just "murderer" but all sorts of profanities, he was surprised at how colourful the ghost's language was.

He took a few deep breaths to calm himself then sat down on the bed. He wondered why she wasn't here to gloat, it was too much to hope that _this_ had been her unfinished business and that she had passed over. No. She was still here, but not for long. She had to go. But how do you get rid of a ghost?

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Izzy spotted him sitting alone in the corner of the tavern, nursing a glass of some crimson beverage. He looked thoughtful and kept self-consciously rubbing his forehead which, she noticed with a smirk, still had a smudge of black on it. She wished she had been there to see his reaction but she had been too busy defacing the Tower with charcoal from the fire and his crime.

All in all, she was very pleased with what she had accomplished. She wondered how he must be feeling now. Terrified probably. She knew she would be. The thought that one of his many conquests had come back to haunt him. She perched herself on the chair opposite him.

'Had a good morning?' Izzy began a pointless, one sided conversation. 'I did, it was very eventful and completely hilarious!' She looked up at him, his eyes were on his drink and his hand was shaking, he looked angry.

'Bit early in the day to be drinking isn't it? But then again, that just looks like tomato juice. Very sensible. You've got some black stuff on your forehead by the-'

Suddenly his hand was on her wrist. It was like a vice and she could tell that if she had bones then they would be close to breaking point. She didn't understand, he could see her, and not just that, he could touch her, this didn't make any sense. She looked up into his eyes, their green/brown filled with anger. He stood suddenly, pulling her up with him and with a brief nod to the barman, he dragged her into a back room.

The room was shabby but had some elements of grandeur: an ornate clock on the mantle, a richly embroidered chaise longue and other items from all over the world that looked ancient, she wondered what kind of people lived here. The windows were boarded up so that no natural light could get in and from the candle light she could see some filthy brown stains on the rug. Blood.

'Alright, you have five minutes.' Henry began, glancing at the clock. 'Ask me anything and then I'm going to start ignoring you again.' Izzy was slightly taken aback at his polite tone after the anger that had been in his eyes only a few moments ago. And as for asking him questions, she didn't know where to begin. There was so much that she didn't understand. She started with the obvious.

'So you've been able to see me all along? How? Is it...is it something to do with, the eyes and...and the teeth? I thought I'd imagined that.'

'You didn't,' He replied shortly, as if he was trying to get this over with as quickly as possible, 'and yes, I'm a vampire, thats why I can see you.'

'A vampire? Like in the folk stories?' she asked. Henry nodded, Izzy stared at him. 'Wow. So I suppose that wasn't tomato juice you were drinking then?' She had always been vaguely interested in the mythical blood sucking monsters but had never for a moment even considered that they might be real. She supposed it explained a lot, especially the absence of blood when she had died. Aware that she was running out of time, she cut to her next question. 'So, um, why were you ignoring me before?'

'I don't make a habit of speaking to ghosts, they aren't usually there when I wake up. I thought, hoped, that if I ignored you then eventually you would get bored and bugger off and I haven't given up, but your actions are starting to draw attention to myself and my people and that has to stop'

'Your people? There are more of you? More vampires?' Izzy questioned. Henry raised his eyebrow at her, realisation dawned. 'Charles.'

'That's _Lord_ Charles to you.' Stated Henry, a hint of a threat in his voice. Izzy laughed, she wasn't scared of him.

'You screwed me, killed me and drank my blood then he disposed of what was left of my body. Any respect that I ever had for the two of you has now gone completely out of the window'

'Times up.' Henry sighed, glancing at the clock again. 'So, now that you know what I am and what you are, you can leave me alone.' He crossed to the door and held it open for her. Izzy stayed where she was.

'And go where?'

'I don't know, wherever ghosts usually go.' Henry replied.

'And where's that?' She asked. Henry shrugged, Izzy sighed 'I can't just leave!' All the anger suddenly returned to his face, he slammed the door and took a step towards her.

'If you don't then I swear, I will-'

'What?' interrupted Izzy, replicating his action and staring straight into his eyes, proving that she wasn't scared. 'What more is there left for you to do to me? You're the only person in the world who can see me, and you killed me. Do you really think I'm just going to walk away? Let you walk away?' Henry was the first to break eye contact. Izzy smiled at her small victory.

'I'm going to ignore you,' Henry stated quietly, 'I can do this forever.'

'Good luck with that, because now I know you can see me, I can kick the haunting up a notch. You have just made this whole "being dead" thing, a lot more fun.' Henry groaned, opened the door and returned to the bar, Izzy skipped after him. 'I think we'll start with the top ten, greatest arias of all time, I'll have you know that my singing voice is truly something to behold.' She smiled, she was tone deaf, but she was going to let him find that out the hard way.

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**Hope you enjoyed :)**

**I thought it would be fun to have Hal as London's 17th century answer to Herrick and make Charles (who, thanks to a chat with Saint, I have decided to make a much bigger character) his Mitchell.**

** I'll try and get the next chapter up as soon as I can. Reviews _very_ welcome :) **


	4. Fear

**Chapter 3. This chapter is rather dark so I hope you still like it. Evil Hal $:-{[**

**Thanks to ****SAINTIXE56 and ****Rideawhitehorse for historical information.**

**********Thanks to 0positiv and make-mine-a-kiaora for the reviews.**

**********Thanks to anyone who has added me as story/author favourite/alert.**

**********I don't own Being Human**

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**Chapter 3 - Fear**

**12th February 1619**

'- And then, Ariel says:

''I will be correspondent to command, And do my spiriting gently." And then Prospero says that if she… or he, I was never really sure... anyway... Prospero says that if Ariel does what he says then in two days he will set him, or her, free. So then Ariel says "what do I have to do?" and Prospero replies:

"Go make thyself like a nymph o' the sea: be subject  
To no sight but thine and mine, invisible  
To every eyeball else. Go take this shape  
And hither come in't: go, hence with diligence!"

'And then Ariel just vanishes, into thin air. Well, not literally, obviously, because it was on a stage, but I imagine that, if it was real, then that's what he/she would have done.'

Over the past day, Isabella had treated Hal to, not only the top ten greatest arias of all time (which had, to be honest, sounded like she was being murdered again) but to the entire works of Shakespeare. At the moment she was on to _The Tempest_. She had informed him that she had first seen_ The Tempest_ on the 10th of November 1611 with her father and brother when she was 12 and that it was her favourite. Hal thought it was a bit far fetched, as if wizards could ever exist, _that_ was ridiculous.

'Am I a spirit?' she asked, Hal ignored her, he hadn't spoken to her since the tavern. 'Ariel is a spirit. Do you think I can do all the things that she/he can? Like turning into a Harpy and appearing out of nowhere and controlling the weather? I'm going to give it a go.' She closed her eyes and concentrated and in the next moment she had vanished from his side. Hal groaned, she had learnt to do the strange disappearing and appearing thing that he had seen some ghosts do before, he hated it, it always made him jump right out of his skin.

This ghost was really starting to get annoying now, she had been right, the horse and the writing was nothing in comparison to how irritating she could be just by talking to him. And the worst part was that she wasn't frightened of him. After what he had done to her she had no right not to be scared of him, the idea of it both infuriated and impressed him. He had seen ghosts of his other victims tremble so much they couldn't stand at the sight of him, the most experienced of werewolves and vampires twice his age speak his name in whispers, terrified at the thought of him, but Isabella wasn't afraid like them, he obviously hadn't given her enough reason to fear him. Fortunately, he had a plan.

'So, update on the spiriting: I can move from one place to another. I tried turning into a harpy but strangely enough, that didn't work, neither did the weather controlling, but you know, practice makes perfect.' Isabella smiled, when she had appeared next to him, Hal had jumped so much that he had spilt his glass of blood all over himself.

Dispute ignoring her, Hal had been listening to Isabella's constant babbling and amongst the mindless trivia she had mentioned a few interesting things, namely a certain cousin by the name of Lady Margaret who was at court. Isabella had probably told him this bit of what she thought to be useless information in an effort to irritate him but he found it very useful indeed, it was essential to his plan. If Isabella was going to follow him around for eternity then he would show her what that truly ment.

He spotted her at the feast that night. She was sitting with the Queen's ladies. At first glance you wouldn't believe that this girl was related to Isabella. Where Isabella's hair was a soft brown, like dark honey and fell in ringlets, Margaret's was dark and thick and it looked like she had only just managed to tame it into the knot at the back of her head. Her face was plain as well, she wasn't unpleasant looking but it was a huge contrast to Isabella's high cheek bones, that were lightly touched with pink and her straight nose and soft pink lips that revealed her perfect teeth when she smiled. He couldn't deny that Isabella was beautiful, that's why he had chosen her, it was also why he had made such a mess of her, pretty girls brought out the beast in him. The only similarity between Isabella and Margaret were their eyes. Those deep blue/green pools that looked like you could drown in them. No, Margaret wasn't his usual type but if this plan was to work then be would need to go with it.

Isabella was sitting next to him babbling on about a puppy she had owned when she was nine. She was completely oblivious to what was going on in Hal's head. He laughed at her naivety, even though he had killed her she still had no idea what he truly was. Soon enough that would change. He couldn't wait to see her reaction, to wipe that smug grin of her face. She would fear him.

When he stood up and walked over to where Margaret was sitting, Isabella followed. She smiled when she saw her cousin.

'Maggie.' She whispered, but when she realised that Hal was heading for her, he could tell that she was starting to get suspicious.

'Lady Margaret,' Hal began, falling into his well practiced routine of charm and wit, might you do me the honor of giving me this dance?' There was a lot of giggling at this, Hal waited patiently for it to subside.

'Henry, what are you doing?' Asked Isabella. Hal ignored her.

Once the girls had calmed down, Margaret rose to her feet 'I would like that very much, sir.' She replied. Hal held out his arm and Margaret took it. He lead her onto the dance floor.

It only took one song, a personal record for him, the stupid girl was gazing up at him completely smitten. Her heart was racing and her breathing shallow, he had her now, she was trapped. He lead her to the edge of the hall, near the door. Isabella was there, all the laughter had disappeared from her face now, she looked slightly confused.

'Might I steal a kiss?' whispered Hal to Margaret, just loud enough for Isabella to hear. He hoped she would cotton on, this was the line he had used on her. Margaret nodded shyly.

'No, Maggie don't.'

Hal was in his element now, jokes and smiles and empty promises, it took practically no time at all to coax the girl upstairs.

'No.'

He could tell the ghost was getting anxious now, perhaps she had figured it out, perhaps not. Maybe she was just disbelieving. It wasn't until they turned into the corridor to Hal's bed chamber that she finally got it.

'Henry, please don't do this. Please, don't hurt her.'

Hal smiled, she was pleading, there was fear in her voice. _This_ is what he liked to hear. He ignored her and kept walking, his arm around the waist of the girl, blissfully ignorant of her fate.

'Please, Henry.'

Hal's smile got wider, tears. They reached his door, he opened it, allowing Margaret to enter. Then, as he turned to shut the door behind him, he looked Isabella straight in the eyes.

'Please' she whispered, but Hal just smiled.

* * *

Izzy sat outside the room. It had been a few hours since Maggie's screams had subsided, Izzy had listened to every one like they were coming from her own mouth. When she closed her eyes she could imagine exactly what was happening in that room, no, not imagine, remember.

She could remember his kiss, his breath on her neck and then how pleasure had turned to pain as his teeth tore at her flesh, how she had tried to fight him off but he was too strong and then... nothing. When she opened her eyes she was in a corridor, bright white, shining. She had walked forward cautiously, she could see people at the end of the corridor but she couldn't quite make them out. It wasn't till she had got closer that she noticed the cruel wooden staffs, thick as tree trunks and harsh, strong ropes and feathered wings, as black as night. Izzy had turned heel and run as fast and as far as she could but they were still there, right behind her. Terror like she had never felt before gripped her insides as she closed her eyes and opened them unto to a blood stained room and a sleeping vampire.

Up until now Izzy hadn't thought about her death. It had been a blur, surreal, like she hadn't really been experiencing it but had been watching from a distance, like through the wrong end of a telescope. Up until now she hadn't really realised what Henry was. As her death had been unreal, so had been the idea that he was a murderer, she had been so stupid. Sir Henry Yorke was a monster. Cold blooded and evil. Izzy had taunted him, baited him and now Maggie had paid for it. Izzy had felt so powerless to stop it, so dead.

The door in front of her creaked open and there he was, his face, hair and clothing immaculate despite what she knew he had just done. Henry looked down at her and Izzy found that she couldn't meet his eyes, instead she settled for somewhere around his chin.

The corners of his mouth twitched into a smile which grew gradually wider. It was a smile of triumph, a smile of victory. Izzy knew that he could see the tears in her eyes, he could see the pain and the sorrow and the fear and he knew that he had won.

He shut his door behind him and strolled down the corridor. Izzy followed him. Why? Because she felt that there was nothing else she could do.

* * *

**Phew. That was a little dark and I have darker coming up :/ but I will try and keep as much humor as possible :)**

**Quick question: To Hizzy or not to Hizzy? Because I have no idea, it will have no impact on the story either way, so they could just be good friends. So im putting it to the vote but be warned, if I get further into the story and realise that it wont work then I may just ignore you. Izzy is 19, and of noble blood, if that helps your decision.**

**Thanks for reading, and please review, it gives me an excuse to check my phone when I should be revising :)**

**And Remember: To Hizzy or not to Hizzy? That is the question.**


	5. The Blood Barrel

**So it's a bank holiday and I was idle so I decided to write another chapter.**

**Thanks to ****SAINTIXE56 and ****Rideawhitehorse for historical information.**

**********Thanks to 0positiv and okami34 and NonyMouse for the reviews.**

**********Thanks to anyone who has added me as story/author favourite/alert.**

**********I don't own Being Human**

**The people have spoken and I have decided, no Hizzy. I wasn't going to do it in the first place but I thought that I would give you the choice.**

* * *

**Chapter 4: The Blood Barrel**

**13th February 1619**

Hal downed his third pint in record breaking time. He was celebrating with Charles in '_The Blood Barrel._' The tavern's name had been his idea, he was rather proud of it, he loved how ignorant the human customers were to its quite literal meaning. Ten years ago, when he had come to power, he had come up with the idea of a place where vampires who couldn't be bothered to get their hands dirty could buy a pint or two. The place turned a tidy profit which he willingly split with Tom, the landlord, of course. Tom was a very old vampire, feared by all in his day, he should be one of The Old Ones but he confessed to Hal that he was too tired to fuss around with vampire politics, he preferred the quiet life. Hal liked chatting to Tom, he liked his stories. Tom said Hal was destined for great things and Hal knew he was right.

'I think you should speak to her.' Charles' voice cut into Hal's thoughts. Hal glanced over to the ghost. She was sitting where she had been for the past half an hour. Her sea green eyes wide and staring into thin air. She hadn't said a word since before he had killed Margaret. She was terrified of him, as she should be.

'Why?'

'Because she needs you.' Charles replied 'She's scared and confused and new to this world and she needs someone to explain it all to her'

'Charles, I think your getting confused between a ghost and a recruit. She isn't my problem, I didn't make her.'

'Well, technically you did. She wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you. I can't imagine what it must be like to come into this world alone. Fortunately, I had you, and she needs you too.'

'Look, I am not going to start being friendly to her after I've only just managed to get her to shut up. And I don't think that talking to her would be the best way to get her to bugger off all together, I tried that, it didn't work.'

'I don't think you mean that.' Said Charles quietly, using his cautious tone again.

'What?' Asked Hal.

'I don't think you want her to go away, I think you've enjoyed having her around.'

'Don't be ridiculous.' Hal laughed. Charles took a deep breath, steeling himself, then let the words spill from his mouth.

'You do. I've noticed. Before she came along you were starting to look tired, bored, but since she started haunting you, it's like, you're yourself again. More so. What you did, to her cousin, letting her see you, _that_ was cruel, even by your standards, but I think you enjoyed it, enjoyed the game, and now that she's stopped talking, you miss it. She isn't going to go away, she hasn't got anywhere else to go so I think, that if you talk to her, acknowledge her existence, then she could be good for you.' He finished with a nod of his head, to certify his point, then seeing the look on his creator's face he added 'It's just a thought.' Then got up from the bar and walked out before Hal could say anything in return.

Hal was stunned. Had it been that obvious that he had been feeling tired? For he had been. He had got as high up the vampire hierarchy as he could for the moment (he still had another hundred and fifty to two hundred years until he reached Old One status) and after ten years of being in power, things _were_ starting to get boring. The last time he had felt tired was forty years ago, but then he had recruited Charles and had felt better.

Maybe Charles was right, maybe that was what he needed: another recruit. And maybe Isabella wasn't so different from a recruit after all, especially now she had the right frame of mind, knew who was in charge, and it was fairly obvious that she wasn't going away any time soon, she could be good company. Hal sighed, once again, Charles was right.

* * *

'Good morning.'

Izzy blinked. She had been staring at the same spot on the wall for the past three hours. It was a spot just under the window cill where Charles hadn't quite managed to scrub off a splash of blood, she had spent the entire night wondering who the blood had belonged to. Her? Maggie? Some other girl who had allowed herself to be charmed and then suffered the same fate?

She glanced up at Henry, had she just imagined those words leaving his lips? No, he was looking at her, he had definitely just said 'good morning' to her. Obviously her confusion had shown on her face because Henry was smiling.

'So, today there is a meeting, in _The Blood Barrel_ for me and some of the other vampires in London. You can come along if you want but it will probably be really boring, just talking about politics and making preparations et cetera, so it's up to you. I'm going to get some breakfast. ' He dressed and left the room. Izzy stared after him. That was weird.

When she got to where Henry was eating, Charles was sitting with him. Henry muttered something about needing to use the privy. He nodded to Izzy as he walked past.

'So he's talking to you then? I knew he would.' Said Charles with a smirk, halfway through his meal. Izzy sensed that he was someone whom she could finally get some answers out of so sat down beside him.

'Why is he? I don't understand, two days ago, he killed my cousin, just to get me to shut up and now, he's smiling and wishing me a good morning.'

Charles smiled. 'He didn't kill her just to get you to shut up, he did it to make you scared of him. He likes to be in control, to be feared and he didn't like it when you weren't scared so…'

'That's sick.'

'That's Hal.' Charled drained the last of his flagon and pushed his empty plate away from him. 'Look, Isabella, I think Hal really likes having you around, it's a change, and when you're as old as he is, you need a change every once in a while to stop things from getting boring. I'm not expecting you to forgive him, because, well, he killed you and not everyone can forgive that, but, so long as you're on his good side, he's actually an alright person to be around.'

Izzy stared at Charles for a few moments, taking in what he had just said. 'You're mad' she stated. Charles just laughed.

* * *

Henry had been right, the meeting was boring. None of the other vampires had taken any notice of her when they came in. They had all sat down, had a glass of blood and started talking. The conversation was tiresome, mainly talking about a ship that was due to arrive soon and for some reason, they needed to find lots of dogs. Izzy felt her attention start to wander after five minutes. After ten, she decided to spirit outside get some fresh air, figuratively.

Not much was happening outside, it was quiet for midday but then this street was quite out of the way, a good location for a vampire pub, she thought, anything could happen down here. She turned to examine the sign hanging above the tavern door. It was crudely painted and depicted a beautiful maiden with flowing black hair and wearing a crimson gown, sitting in a man-sized beer barrel. Izzy laughed bitterly, these vampires weren't exactly subtle.

'What are they talking about in there?'

Izzy spun around, looking for the source of the voice. Standing behind her was a girl, younger than her, about seventeen, although her eyes told a different story. They looked like they had seen so much, it was the same look that Izzy saw in Henry's eyes. The girl's skin was pale, so were her lips and her hair was a light blond. Only her eyes stood out: they had dark circles around them, framing the vibrant green. Her clothes were strange too. Her dress was a rich dark blue velvet, it looked very expensive, almost like she was royalty, however it was aged, like she wore it everyday and the design was at least ten years out of date. She also wore black gloves that went up to her elbows.

'You can see me?' Izzy asked. The girl nodded and continued to look at Izzy, expectantly. Remembering that the girl had asked her a question, Izzy replied, 'I don't know, I wasn't really paying attention, politics isn't my thing.'

'No, it wasn't mine either,' the girl laughed, 'but it's good to have some idea about what's going on. Especially now, I've been hearing whispers.'

Izzy frowned. 'Are you a vampire?'

'Yes.'

'Then, why don't you just go in there and find out?'

'I'm not welcome in there anymore.' Said the girl with a small smile, Izzy couldn't tell wether she was sad or happy about this statement.

'Why not?'

'Lots of reasons,' She sighed 'mainly because I'm dry now and… other things…' Izzy was about to open her mouth to question further but the girl started talking again. 'Who killed you then? I bet it was Hal, you look like his type.' Her eyes flickered away from Izzy's face to something behind her. 'Speak of the devil.'

'Jane, what are you doing here?' said Henry, he didn't wait for a reply. 'You have to leave now, or I'll tell the others that you're out here and you know they won't be happy.' Jane stayed where she was, staring into Henry's eyes without fear, her presence seemed to unnerve him. 'Leave.' He said, as forcefully as he dared. A smile twitched at the corner of Jane's mouth for a split second before she turned and left. Henry watched until she was out of sight then turned to Izzy.

'Isabella, what did she say to you?' Izzy was slightly stunned at the use of her name, he hadn't said it since before she died.

'Nothing, she just wanted to know what you were talking about in there.'

'And did you tell her anything?' His tone a little more forceful, he stepped closer to her.

'No. I wasn't listening in there.' Her voice shaking slightly, he did frighten her. 'I swear.' She added. Henry seemed satisfied. He sighed then sat down on the steps of the tavern door. Izzy watched him for a moment. He was looking slightly disheveled, quite unlike his usual immaculate self, that girl had frightened him. Part of her liked seeing him like this, it made him seem human, knowing that something scared him, it didn't make her fear him any less though. Eventually, her curiosity won over her fear.

'Who is she?' She asked, not expecting an answer. Henry surprised her.

'Lady Jane Mawer. She was the wife of my predecessor, until she killed him, which is why the others aren't exactly pleased with her.' Izzy looked in the direction that the girl had gone, she hadn't looked like a killer, but then again, Henry hadn't either.

'Why did she kill him?'

Hal shrugged. 'Nobody knows. No one knows _how _she did it either. He was one of The Old Ones. Six of his closest advisors and recruits were killed too. She's bad news, you can never tell what she's thinking, or why she does what she does. It's best to steer clear.'

Izzy planned her next question carefully, she was sure she was pushing her luck now, that any moment his patience would snap, but it didn't, he seemed to be in a different mood today, it was strange.

'She said that she was dry, what does that mean?'

'It means she doesn't drink blood.' Henry replied.

'Vampires can do that?' Izzy frowned.

'If we want to. If we have the will power.'

'Why don't you?'

'I don't want to.'

'Why not?'

'Because there is no greater feeling.'

* * *

**Hope you liked it. I was going to do a Herrick quote at the end there ('It feels so nice') but that didn't sound right coming from Hal's mouth.**

**A shout out to the inspiration for the name _The Blood Barrel _which is the pub, _The Bucket of Blood_ in Hayle. I found it on Google, quite a grim story.**

**Anyway, I hope you enjoyed. Reviews _very_ welcome.**


	6. Richard

**This chapter is dedicated to ********SAINTIXE56 for all the help with historical** information.

**********Thanks to 0positiv, fleemneek, bookesey, eyes and teeth, lozzielo and laspettra for the reviews.**

**********Thanks to anyone who has added me as story/author favourite/alert.**

**********I don't own Being Human**

* * *

**Chapter 5: Richard**

**23rd February 1619**

In the past week and a half, things had gone from weird, to downright insane. Izzy now found herself playing cards with the man who killed her. She didn't know why she was still following him, after everything that he had done, she should be a million miles away but he had this inexplicable feeling that she couldn't leave him, she couldn't just walk away. She had actually managed to pluck up the courage to ask him about it a few days ago.

'Well, I don't pretend to be an expert on ghosts,' he had replied, 'but from what I've seen, they usually have some sort of root, something to tie them to the world. A place, a person, an object that they have some sort of attachment to, it's why most ghosts tend to haunt the place where they died. You don't really have any attachment to the Tower do you? After all, you had only just arrived so, I assume, the only thing that makes any sense, is that _I_ am your root.'

'So, what would happen to a ghost if they didn't have a root?'

'They would cease to exist, drift away like smoke on the breeze.'

'Great.'

Izzy had thought it over several times. It all seemed to make sense, hadn't she been, more or less, in love with him before she died?

At that moment Charles poked his head round the door. Henry signaled for him to come in.

'They've found the bodies.' Charles started. Henry didn't look up from his cards.

'Which ones?' he asked, indifferently.

'Isabella's, and her cousin.' Replied Charles, with a momentary glance at Izzy, she saw something like pity in his eyes. She herself had frozen, listening intently to the conversation, unsure of what to think, the sight of her body suddenly flashed up in her eyes, she saw Maggie's too, although she had never actually seen what became of her, she could imagine. Her pale skin: stained red, her black hair: matted and bloody, her brilliant blue/green eyes: empty.

'And?' said Henry, his attention still on the game.

Charles took a deep breath. 'They think it was an animal attack, the state of the bodies means that they can't tell that they died a few days apart and it was a full moon the other night so they weren't the only bodies found, which helps.' He recited it like a well known poem that he had said a thousand times before.

'Isabella, it's your turn.' Prompted Henry, shaking Izzy out of her trance. Seizing the opportunity to think about something other than her mangled corpse she put down her next card, whilst still listening intently to the conversation.

'What are the authorities doing?' Henry asked.

'Looking for the animal' replied Charles.

'They can't know about the dog.'

'We are in the process of finding a real wolf, releasing it and letting them kill it to take the blame.'

'Good.'

'The bodies have been identified, families informed.'

'And the funeral?'

'In two days'

'Very good.' Henry smiled at his protégé. 'Well, you should go and clear up any loose ends.'

Charles nodded and went to leave the room.

'Oh, and Charles?'

'Yes?'

'Find the dog. Put it with the others.'

Charles left the room, closing the door behind him. Silence filled the room while the game continued. Izzy was left to ponder the conversation while Henry took his turn. More mention of dogs. This was the second time she had heard Henry talk about them, she wasn't sure what to think about that, a more pressing matter was the fact that her body had been found. 'Families informed' Charles had said, she imagined her father being told of her demise, wondered how he would have reacted. And then there was the funeral.

Henry was the first to break the silence.

'Are you going to go?' He asked, as if he had read her mind

'Go where?' she replied, a little startled.

'To your funeral.'

'I - I don't know, can I do that?'

'I presume so.'

Izzy stared at him for a few moments, she looked him straight in the eyes, she realised she could do that now, she didn't know when, in the last week she had started doing so. 'I don't think anyone will be there' she confessed.

'Well, someone must have cared enough to pay for a funeral.' Henry said, putting down his card.

Izzy shrugged. 'My uncle, he probably only did it for Maggie, thought he might as well throw me in the ground while he's at it.'

'What about your father?'

'He hates me.' Izzy laughed, taking her turn.

'I'm sure that's not true.'

Izzy stared at him. 'What happened to "I'm sure no one will miss her"?'

Henry laughed. 'I apologize for trying to make you feel better.'

'Why would you be trying to do that?'

'Because I'm worried that if you start to cry, then you will end up throwing furniture around again and this room had already been redecorated enough in the past two weeks.' Izzy smiled at the memory of when she had followed Henry and Charles to a production of _Romeo and Juliet _a few days ago, and she had blubbed her eyes out so much that she had made all the seats in the theatre shake, discovering in the process that she could move objects without touching them, a handy addition to the spiriting skill set.

'Will you go with me?' She asked 'To the funeral?' She didn't want to go alone and he was the only person she could ask.

'I can't,' He replied, 'I can't go within a hundred feet of a church.'

'Vampire thing?' Izzy smiled as she took her turn, she was getting used to all these crazy rules.

'I couldn't go anyway, I'm too busy, I've got things to organize.'

'Oh.' He had been doing a lot of organizing lately, but she hadn't the guts to ask him what for.

'You win.' He stated, throwing down his last card. 'Another game?'

* * *

The service had been brief, there hadn't been a big turnout, most people were there for Maggie, everyone had always loved her. Izzy wondered, not for the first time, where Maggie had disappeared to, why she wasn't a ghost, it was just one more item to add to the list of things she didn't understand.

Izzy was pleasantly surprised to find that her brother, Edward, was there. He was with his wife who was heavy with child. Eddie was always the perfect son, getting married to a girl from a very well respected family, he had been busy with her and the baby ever since, Izzy hadn't spoken to him in months.

Her father was nowhere to be seen.

As the coffins were buried and the mourners said their final goodbyes, Izzy noticed someone else in the cemetery. That person was a young man with sandy coloured hair. He was dressed in his Sunday best. Normally she would have taken no notice of him but she had sensed his eyes upon her and naturally, that had got her attention.

Izzy spirited so that she was standing right behind him.

'Can I help you?' she asked.

'Shi- Oh! M'lady! My apologies, I didn't see you!' Said the young man, clearly startled.

'You're looking at me, how can you be looking at me?' asked Izzy, her eyes narrowing in suspicion.

'I'm a ghost too, M'lady.' He said. Izzy gaped at him.

'Really? I'm sorry, it's just, I've never met another ghost before.'

He frowned. 'You're living in the Tower of London and you've never met another ghost? That place must be packed with them!'

'Well I've never seen one,' said Izzy, a little defensively, 'and how do you know I've been living in the Tower?' she asked, even more suspicious now 'Who are you?'

'Richard Claydon, M'lady.' He replied, with a short bow. 'You probably don't remember me but I used to do the gardening for your uncle, Lord Fiston, before I passed. 'Course, that was twelve years ago now and the last time I saw you, you was a tiny little thing, but when I heard what happened, I was mighty sad so thought I'd come down and show my face, not literally o'course because nobody can see me, well except your ladyship. I have to admit, I'm surprised, I never thought you would be one to be stuck 'ere.'

'I was a little surprised myself.' She watched her uncle, the only person still at the grave, sobbing over his daughter. Once again Izzy wondered where Maggie had gone.

'It must be a hell of a thing, going to your own funeral' said Richard.

'Yes, it is.' Replied Izzy, still watching her uncle.

'What you need is a drink.'

'I'm a ghost, we can't drink.'

'No, but you can taste.'

'What do you mean?' Izzy's gaze snapped back to Richard, a quizzical look on her face. His face bore the expression of an excited child, about to share a secret.

'Are you telling me you've never tasted?' He laughed, Izzy shook her head. 'My Lady, you are missing out!' he exclaimed. 'Let me show you just how fun being a ghost can be.'

* * *

'This is hopeless!' Izzy groaned, she had just failed on her third attempt at trying to taste the ale that the gentleman they had found sitting at the bar of _The Hanging Man_ was drinking. Richard just smiled, his lopsided smile.

'Don't worry m'lady, you just need practice. Here, let me help.' He walked up behind her and took her wrists in his hands. Izzy felt a small shiver up her spine as he moved her hands so they were resting on the man's temples.

'Now close your eyes.' Izzy heard Richard's voice, very close to her ear. She did what he told her. 'Imagine that you are sitting at the bar, and drinking from the tankard.' He continued. Izzy did as she was commanded but it was very difficult not to think of the feel of Richard's breath on her neck. The _feel_ of it. She could actually _feel_ him. She hadn't felt anything in weeks. With a great deal of effort, she forced her mind back to the task in hand and was rewarded by the sweet, fruity taste of the ale filling her mouth.

'Ha!' she shouted with excitement. 'I can taste it! In my mouth! This is - this is amazing!'

Richard released her hands and stepped away from her 'I told you, you were missing out.'

'Thank you!' she cried and flung her arms around Richard's neck. When she drew away she caught sight of his eyes, grey, but not cold, somehow they held all the warmth in the world. They stood there for what felt like forever, looking at each other but when Richard moved in closer, Izzy turned away.

'I should get back.' she whispered. She could feel it happening again, the feeling of butterflies in her stomach, the same feeling she had had the first time she had seen Henry. Lady Isabella Fiston: the girl who was always falling in love. She couldn't do this, couldn't be that girl anymore, look where her last crush had got her.

'M'lady, I'm sorry, that was disrespectful of me, you are a noble and I'm just a gardener-'

'No, it's not that, it's just… I might be missed.' She lied.

'Missed? I thought you said that you hadn't met any other ghosts.'

'Oh, no, I haven't, Henry and Charles are vampires.' Richard's expression at the sound of this word was unreadable.

'Oh,' he replied looking disappointed, 'Then you should probably get back.'

Izzy saw the look on his face and made a split second decision. 'But I would very much like to do this again another time.' she said, telling herself that she was going to take things slowly, get to know him, she was obviously out of his league but he was sweet. 'Where can I meet you?'

'My lady, I am honored.' He grinned. 'This is my usual haunt.'

'Fantastic! Because you still need to teach me to swaddle, and suggest, and read auras and all the other things you mentioned.'

'I look forward to it M'Lady.' swooping down, taking her hand and brushing it gently with his lips.

'Me too.' Replied Izzy, blushing.

* * *

**I'm not very good at writing romance, but I hoped you enjoyed all the same.**

**I think I should explain about Jane, the dry vampire from Chapter 4. I invented her after series 3, originally intending her to be Edgar Wyndham's wife but she has evolved a bit since then. She has been in my head for a while but I hadn't managed to figure out a suitable story for her so, like the mobile phones of those who visited Zhivago's Nightclub one fateful full moon, she was filed away into the back of my mind. UNTIL I was writing _Haunting Hal_ and found that I needed a clean vampire to introduce the idea to Izzy that not all vampires drink blood so I thought I would bring out, drum roll please, Lady Jane Mawer! Since then I have been having ideas for her character that are unlikely to fit into _Haunting Hal_ so, I've been thinking, that after I've finished with Izzy then I will do a spin off for Jane. Jane will be mentioned a bit more in _Haunting Hal_ but her story won't be told, it will be in the spin off. I thought I'd explain that now instead of you all wondering where she has disappeared to a few chapters down the line.**

**Anyway, I hope you have all enjoyed and thank you for reading. Reviews _very_ welcome.**


	7. Unfinished Business

**Chapter 6! Sorry, it's a bit late, I've been a bit busy and im not sure when the next chapter will be up, i have a busy week ahead: exams Wednesday and Thursday, party Friday, work and eurovision party Saturday, my brother's confirmation Sunday then TRAVELING LIGHT ON TUESDAY! sorry, I'm a bit excited. I'll try and get the next chapter out as soon as I can. :)**

**Thanks to 0positiv for the review :)**

**I don't own Being Human.**

**Apologies in advance if Richard's accent is a bit inconsistent, I'm not good at accents...**

* * *

**Chapter 6: Unfinished Business**

**9th March 1619**

Izzy was convinced. She was completely and utterly, absolutely, positively certain that she was totally, head over heels in love with Richard Claydon. She had felt like this before, of course, but this time was different, she could tell, Richard was special. They had only been courting for a few weeks now but Izzy knew that they were going to spend forever together, for the first time since she died, no, the first time since she left home, she was happy.

She found herself, strangely, not minding so much that she was dead, in-fact, she was loving it, especially now that she had learnt all of the tricks that Richard had taught her. She supposed that if she was alone, if she didn't have Richard or Henry or Charles, then she would hate being a ghost, it would be so lonely, but, immortality seemed just that little bit shorter now that she had someone to spend it with, or, at least, someone who wasn't a crazed, murdering monster.

Thinking of Henry, Izzy hadn't really seen much of him since before the funeral. When she had returned that night, he hadn't even asked her how it had gone, in fact, he had been in a foul mood. Apparently, the only reason that he had encouraged her to go was so that she could be out of his hair for a day. She wasn't sure wether or not to believe him.

He had been in a bad mood quit a lot recently, Charles said that he was just stressed out about 'the visit', Izzy didn't know what that ment, she found she didn't really care. She no longer felt the attachment to Henry that she once had, it was still there, but less pronounced, she was spending most of her time with Richard.

'Izzy?' he asked one day. She had permitted him to call her that, she had only ever let people who were close to her call her by that name, she thought Richard qualified.

'Mmm?' she replied, they were sitting, intertwined in _The Hanging Man_. It was the early hours of the morning and they were both suffering secondhand hangovers.

'Have you ever thought about what your unfinished business might be?' He asked.

'My what?' She replied lazily, still in her doze.

'The thing that's keeping you here, the reason you haven't passed over.'

Izzy sat up straight and looked at him. 'What on earth are you talking about?' she asked, having no idea what he ment and feeling slightly irritated by the fact that he was bothering her with this now when all she wanted to do was attempt to sleep.

'You don't know about unfinished business? Don't tell me that your _friend_ hasn't told you.' He spat out the word friend. Izzy has learnt not to mention Henry or Charles in front of Richard, he didn't like vampires. Izzy had asked why but he hadn't answered and she didn't want to press the subject.

'He's not my friend, far from it' replied Izzy, 'and no, he hasn't said anything, he's not an expert on ghosts.'

'He's a vampire.' Stated Richard. 'A murderer. He must 'ave met a fair few of us in his time so he must know about the door and he must know about unfinished business.'

Izzy shook her head. 'He said that ghosts aren't usually there when he wakes up. And what do you mean by "the door"?' Izzy was now getting annoyed, she wished he would explain himself.

Richard looked oddly satisfied at her reaction. 'He's right, most ghosts do pass over, not long after they die, their door appears and they move on.'

'On to what?' interrupted Izzy, her initial irritation at this conversation replaced with burning curiosity. Was she finally going to find out what happened to Maggie?

Richard shrugged. 'I like to think it's a better place' he responded with a smile and a distant look in his grey eyes, like he was a million miles away.

'So why aren't we there?' asked Izzy, now completely captivated by what Richard was saying.

His attention snapped back to her and he smiled. ''cause we have unfinished business, something unresolved about our lives, or deaths, and when we resolve it, finish or unfinished business, then our door will appear and we can pass over, go to that better place.'

There was silence after he finished talking, the words hung in the air. Unfinished business, unfinished business, Izzy racked her brains, trying to think of what it could be. Patching things up with her father? Maybe, although she wasn't sure how she could do that when he couldn't see or hear her, she didn't think she really wanted to anyway. She searched her mind for something else but nothing came to mind.

'How did you die, Izzy?' Asked Richard quietly. It seemed, to Izzy, like this was the moment that the entire conversation had been leading to. 'It weren't a wild animal, was it?' Izzy turned away, she hadn't told him how she had really died, it was humiliating, she didn't want him to think differently of her, didn't want him to think of her the way her father did. She tried to change the subject.

'Do you know what _your_ unfinished business is?'

'I 'ave some idea, although I 'ave no idea how to go about resolving it' he said dismissively, 'but you aint answered my question, Izzy, how did you die?'

Izzy felt a sudden rage within her, he was so interested in how she died but he didn't want to tell her about his own death. Izzy hadn't asked him about it out of respect. She thought they had come to a silent agreement: 'I wont ask about your death if you don't ask about mine' but if he was breaking the terms of the contract then so would she.

'Okay… I'll tell you, but only if you tell me how you died too.'

His eyes slid out of focus for a split second while he pondered her deal, then he came to a decision. 'Izzy, I promise, you 'ave my word. Now, how did you die?'

'Henry killed me' she said quietly, not making eye contact with Richard. He was silent for a long while after she said this and once she looked up at his face she saw he was smiling.

'Do you think,' he started, barely managing to contain the excitement in his voice, 'that maybe, your unfinished business might be revenge?'

Izzy stared at him, the change that had come over him was huge, he was shaking somewhat, his calm eyes were now crazed and he was grasping her hand very tightly, so tightly, in fact, that were she alive, it would have hurt. Where was the charming gardener with the lopsided smile whom she fell in love with?

'What do you mean by revenge?' she asked, fairly certain that she already knew the answer. Richard just looked at her. 'Vampires can't be killed.' she laughed nervously, alarmed that this man, whom she had assumed to be gentle natured, was even suggesting such a thing. 'They're immortal.'

'Oh, they can be killed, if you know how.' He smiled, Izzy had seen that kind of smile before, on Henry, just before he killed. 'And fortunately,' he continued, 'I've been around long enough to learn just that.'

'Hang on, are you seriously suggesting that I _kill_ him? I - I can't do that! I'm not like him, I'm not a monster!' Izzy exclaimed. 'And anyway, Henry said that he was my root, that without him I would just drift apart like smoke!'

'Well he would say that, wouldn't he?' Richard laughed, humorlessly. 'He doesn't want to die.' Izzy looked at him, she wasn't sure what to believe now, she didn't want to hurt anyone though, not even Henry. Richard seemed to sense what she was thinking.

'I know your not a monster, Izzy,' he said, stroking his thumb across her knuckles, '_he's_ the monster, and don't worry, _I'll_ kill him, all you need to do is lead me to him. And then we can be happy. We can pass over, go to that better place, see all the people that we've loved and lost. We can live happily ever after.' Izzy watched him speak, it sounded perfect, everything she could hope for, going to heaven, seeing Maggie again, meeting her mother for the first time, there was just one problem.

'We?'

* * *

The patrons of_ The Hanging Man _all knew the story, for it was for the story that the tavern had been named. Twelve years ago, one morning, the landlord had opened the front door, only to find the body of a man, hanging, with a noose around his neck from the oak tree that grew outside. A man dressed in his Sunday best, with sandy coloured hair and grey eyes.

Since that day, a thousand wild theories had traveled around regarding the man and how he died, but eventually, the truth was unearthed.

Once, there was a young gardener who tended the grounds belonging to Lord Fiston. He was a good man and, although he came from a poor family, he was happy. He had a loving wife and a newborn daughter, everything was perfect for him, until one day.

Apparently, the man had gone home to find his wife and baby daughter torn to shreds and scattered all around the small cottage in which they lived but without a drop of blood in sight. The scene had driven the young man mad of course and eventually he hung himself, outside the tavern, on the day of his family's funeral, he just wanted to be with them.

At the time, the deaths of the wife and daughter had been well publicized, but no one knew who did it. The only clue was the cryptic statement of a witness who had vanished, not long after giving it. He said that he had seen a man, riding away from the cottage on a horse, on the day that the murders had occured. There was little description of the man other than the fact that the horse was white and strapped to the saddle was a red shield.

As for _The Hanging Man_, many people thought it was haunted. The landlord wasn't a superstitious man but he had to admit, strange things did happen in that pub. Sometimes he would find the chairs and tables rearranged when he came downstairs of a morning. Sometimes the fire seemed to burn all night, without anyone needing to stoke it. And sometimes, every now and again a customer would complain of shivers down their spine and a tingly feeling on either side of their head. Who knows? Maybe it was haunted. Haunted by the ghost of the gardener with the grey eyes, trapped in this world, plotting his revenge and searching for the man with the red shield.

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**Thanks for reading, I think Izzy has just as bad a taste in men as Annie :/**

**Reviews _very_ welcome as always x**


	8. To Slay A Monster

**Ok, prepare yourself, this chapter is epic! (If I do say so myself) I had lots of fun writing it, I hope you enjoy :)**

**Thanks to eyes and teeth, fleemneek, 0positiv and make-mine-a-kiaora for the reviews.**

**I don't own Being Human**

**P.S: I realised I haven't given you much Hal POV recently, hope this chapter makes up for it :)**

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**Chapter 7: To Slay A Monster**

**9th March 1619**

'What do you mean "we"? I thought you said that killing Henry was my unfinished business.'

'It is,' replied Richard, he looked a little nervous, like he had said too much, 'but it's mine too.'

Izzy paused, trying to understand what he ment, then a terrible thought entered her mind.

'Did he kill you too?'

Richard shook his head 'but he might as well have done, sometimes I wish he had.' His eyes slid out of focus, a distant and sad expression on his face. 'My wife… my daughter… I couldn't live without them. But they're not here, they're over there and I need to be with them. I knew, when I heard that you had been killed, when I heard about the condition of the bodies, I knew that it was the same… monster and I knew that you would know how to find him, that you could help me kill him, so we could pass over and I could be with them.'

'And what about me?' She hated herself for thinking it, when he had obviously been through so much pain, but she couldn't help it, she had loved him.

'What?'

'When we got over there you were just going to leave me, weren't you.'

'Izzy-'

'Everything you've said over the past two weeks has been a lie? Did you ever have any feelings for me or has it all been a trick?' Richard opened his mouth but Izzy interrupted him before he could even say anything. 'Please don't lie to me again.'

Richard looked at her for a few moments, she hoped that he would say yes, he did love her, he wanted to spend forever with her but she knew that would not happen. Inevitably, he shook his head.

Izzy felt herself well up, she had done it again, fallen for the wrong man. It hurt.

'I'm sorry Richard' she said through sobs 'but I can't help you.'

'No, Izzy, please, I need to be with them.'

Izzy shook her head. 'Don't call me that' she whispered before she spirited away.

* * *

Hal was tired. This was the third time he had redrafted this letter and it wasn't going well. When he had first been informed that the Old Ones would be docking in London as their first stop on their tour of Britain, he was ecstatic, finally a chance to prove himself, to impress them. For more than a century, he had been hearing stories about the Old Ones and knew that it was his destiny to one day be one of them. However, that was not going to happen if this visit didn't go well and he was finally starting to feel the pressure of organizing it.

When Isabella appeared behind him he jumped, as he usually did when she did that, and spilt his inkwell all over his nearly finished letter. He threw down his quill and let out a howl of fury.

'STOP FUCKING DOING THAT!' he shouted. The ghost took a step away from him, the fear that he had seen in her since he killed her cousin, rearing its head.

'Sorry' she mumbled. Hal looked down at the sodden remains of his letter and tried to calm himself.

There was a moment of silence in which Hal managed to clean up the mess on the desk and restart his letter. Then she started talking again.

'Henry, can I ask you something?'

Hal sighed. 'If you must.'

'It's about unfinished business.'

'What about it?' Hal was only half listening to the conversation, trying to focus on the letter and wishing she would get to the point.

'So you know about it then?' She asked.

'Yes.' Hal hissed.

'And you didn't think to mention it to me?' There was a hint of annoyance in her voice.

'I've had other things on my mind.' Hal muttered.

'Yeah, you keep saying that but I've been dead for over a month now so you'd think that maybe, you might have-'

'Is this going somewhere?' Hal interrupted, annoyed at her sudden change to a rather impolite tone.

'I just thought that when you told me to go to my funeral you were actually capable of thinking of someone other than yourself but clearly I was mistaken' she snapped. The words hung in the air. Hal slowly got to his feet.

'Don't talk to me like that.' He said, it was no more than a whisper but the threat was evident, or at least he thought it was, but it had no affect on the ghost.

'Or what?' She asked, near hysterical now, she had clearly forgotten her place, Hal's efforts to remain calm were getting abandoned, he needed to vent, and right now, he didn't like her much. 'Are you going to kill another cousin?' She asked.

'I might.' He responded, his voice still low. He was approaching her now, staring, without blinking, into her eyes. Her anger flickered and for a moment the familiar fear replaced it. Hal smiled, allowing his fangs to show. He knew how to frighten people.

Isabella opened her mouth to speak but the sound caught in her throat. Hal was still approaching her, she backed away until he had her cornered against the wall.

'Now listen.' Hal said, 'You need to remember your place. You are a distraction. An insignificant nobody whom I can play cards with now and again, nothing more. And if you _ever_ forget that then I will personally rip your entire family to shreds. Do you understand?' A single tear fell down her cheek as she nodded, Hal had won.

Hal turned away from her, he heard a small sob from behind him and when he turned back she was gone. Hal felt the pang of something that he hadn't felt in over a century. Guilt. He hadn't ment what he said, he was just in an irritable mood. He tried to continue with his letter but after a while, he gave up. He grabbed his coat and left the room, he needed a drink.

* * *

Izzy was hurt, she had been stupid to think that that monster cared about anyone but himself, stupid to believe all of Charles' mad excuses that he was a nice person really, once you got used to him. Stupid. Izzy was angry. A part of her was begging her not to do what she was about to do but she ignored it. This had to happen.

She found Richard where she had left him, in _The Hanging Man_, sitting with his back to her by the fire. She reached out and touched his shoulder.

'Let's do it.'

* * *

They spirited to outside of _The Blood Barrel. _'Subtle.' Muttered Richard, glancing at the sign as they went through the door, Izzy couldn't help but smile. They made their way into the back room where Henry had been writing his letter just moments earlier, only to find that he was gone.

Richard waited impatiently, while Izzy asked the landlord where Henry had gone. He didn't ignore her, Tom was one of the few vampires, other than Henry and Charles, who recognised that she was there.

They found Henry in an ally to the side of _The Blood Barrel_. He didn't notice them, he was somewhat preoccupied. The 'early morning snack' as Tom had put it, was a girl of around Izzy's age with shocking red hair. There was an upturned basket on the floor at her feet, Izzy supposed she was a street vendor, snatched on her way to work.

The girl was still alive but only just, she was trying to fight him off but wasn't doing a very good job of it. One of Henry's hands was clamped over her mouth to prevent her from screaming, his mouth at her throat. Her struggles became weaker and weaker as her blood loss became fatal.

Izzy stood frozen, she had never actually seen Henry kill before, with Maggie she had been on the other side of the door, imagining what was happening, she didn't need to imagine now.

Richard wasn't stunned at the proceedings. He didn't even look upset. He smiled gratefully at Izzy, she felt sick, gone was the man she fell in love with. Richard gripped the jagged piece of wood in his hand and approached Henry and the girl. Izzy just stood and watched, repeating to herself again and again under her breath 'this has to happen, this has to happen…' although she wasn't entirely convinced that she wanted it too.

Suddenly, it was there. Richard had described to Izzy how the door appeared but his descriptions did nothing to portray the sheer magnificence of it. It was made of a dark wood with a round, iron handle in the centre of it. The small window at the top revealed a bright shining white light behind it. The light called to Izzy, it was the same light that she had seen in the corridor when she had died although she got no terror from it, only a sense of peace, she understood why Richard was so desperate to get over there but at the same time, she knew that it was not there for her, she could not go through that door, it was for someone else.

A scream from behind her snapped Izzy out of her trance, the girl with the red hair was standing there, looking over at Henry, still savaging her neck. Richard was approaching him slowly, stake raised, this was a big moment for him, he was taking his time.

'Don't look at that.' Izzy called to the girl. She span round, with terror in her eyes, Izzy remembered the feeling, she smiled reassuringly at the girl. 'You have to go through here' she said, gesturing to the door, 'it's what happens next.'

The girl blinked away her tears and nodded, she returned Izzy's smile. Izzy could tell that she felt the same sense of peace from the light that she did. Izzy watched as the girl opened the door but just as she stepped through, Izzy glanced over at Richard, approaching the intoxicated Henry. She knew what was about to happen and it felt wrong. Suddenly, Izzy's mantra changed, from 'this has to happen' to 'this can't happen.'

It was like someone else had taken over her actions, it was instinctual, like self preservation, she knew that this wasn't her unfinished business, without Henry she would be smoke. She spirited so she was between Richard and Henry and with all her might, she placed her hands on the other ghost's chest and forced him through the door after the girl. The door closed and immediately disappeared.

A sudden, crushing silence filled the ally. All Izzy could do was stare at the space where the door had vanished. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Henry get to his feet. He stood next to her and looked from the dead girl, to the empty space of wall, to the stake that Richard had dropped.

'Isabella…?' He began, uncertainly. 'Did you just save my life?'

'I think I did.' Replied Izzy without removing her eyes from the wall, she was still in shock herself.

'Why?' He asked. Izzy turned to look at him, most of his face was covered in blood, it was dripping off his chin onto his shirt and the usual green/brown of his eyes had been replaced with pitch black. He was a monster.

'I have no idea.' She replied, truthfully.

The silence returned but this time it was not crushing, it was awkward.

'Don't call me Isabella,' said Izzy, after a few minutes, she felt she had to say something, 'It's Izzy, should be easy enough for you to remember.'

Henry turned to her and smiled, a smile with no trickery, no false meaning behind it, just a genuine smile. 'In that case, Izzy, it's just Hal.'

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**Aww, halpy ending... for now... **

**I hope you enjoyed, reviews _very_ welcome as always**


	9. The Old Ones

**This is one of the chapters that I got excited about ages ago and wrote most of which was a good thing because I could definitely not think straight enough to write a whole chapter after meeting DM on tuesday (OK Shoe, stop showing off now). Anyway, I really like this chapter and I hope you do too.**

**Thanks to 0positiv, Brookesey and Manc Vamp for the reviews and thanks to eyes and teeth, brookesey and little_blue_star (if she's on here) for talking to me about Haunting Hal on Tuesday.**

**********Thanks to anyone who has added me as story/author favourite/alert.**

**********I don't own Being Human**

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**Chapter 8: The Old Ones**

**11th April 1619**

Hal was pacing. He had been doing so for the past hour and a half.

'Hal relax, everything will be fine.' Said Charles.

'That's easy for you to say,' Hal snapped, '_your_ future doesn't hang in the balance of what happens in the next few days!' Izzy had never seen Hal like this before, he looked positively panic stricken, it was surreal to see him so out of control.

'Who are these people anyway?' Izzy asked. 'Why are they so important?'

'Izzy,' Hal began, pausing mid-pace to look at her, 'the Old Ones are the most powerful vampires on the planet. The fear and respect that people have for them is second to none. And they seem to go on forever as well, some of them are thousands of years old. If I make a good impression now, then one day, in a few centuries time, I could be one of them.' He smiled, imagining his possible future and resumed his pacing.

'Hal, you've been planing for this for months,' reassured Charles, 'you've arranged the biggest dog fight that I think _anyone's_ ever seen as a tribute and London's working like clockwork under your control. You have nothing to worry about.'

'Well, I hope you're right.' He stopped pacing and took a deep, calming breath. 'Izzy, can I have a word?' He glanced at Charles. 'In private?'

Charles stood up, taking the hint. 'I'll wait outside for the carriage.' He said before leaving them alone.

Izzy turned to Hal. 'What did you want to talk about?' She asked.

Hal looked into her eyes, clearly planning his words carefully. When he spoke, he spoke calmly and clearly, putting emphasis on every word to ensure she understood.

'This visit means _everything_ to me, a chance to meet the Old Ones, to make an impression, I've been waiting for this opportunity for decades. It has to go well.'

'I know,' said Izzy, mimicking his slow tone, 'you've been saying so for the past five weeks.'

Hal shook his head, clearly irritated that she didn't understand.

'When they get here,' he continued in the same tone, 'the Old Ones won't pay any attention to you, vampires never do, you know that. But don't try and attract attention, don't make things fly around, don't write things on walls, don't stitch up clothes or recite Shakespeare. And don't sing.' He added as an afterthought. 'Definitely don't sing. Like I said, this means everything, so I'm asking you nicely, Izzy, don't ruin this for me.'

Izzy looked into his eyes and realised that this was the closest he was actually going to come to begging her, he knew she was capable of spoiling this for him and he knew that he wouldn't be able to stop her, so he was asking her nicely. He had never seemed more human.

'I didn't hear the magic word.' She said, staring up at him playfully.

For a split second, she thought he was going to hit her but then, 'please' he whispered, barely audibly. Izzy couldn't believe it, she doubted that that word had ever crossed his lips before.

'I'm sorry?' She asked, determined to push him to his limits.

'Please.' He repeated, louder this time.

'Okay.' Izzy said, still reeling from the fact that she had got him to say please. 'I promise I won't ruin things for you and The Old Ones. I'm sure you'll all be very happy together.' She smiled, Hal smiled back. There was a knock on the door.

'Hal,' said Charles, poking his head round the door, 'your carriage is here.'

Hal nodded. 'I have to go and meet them at the docks.' He said as an explanation to Izzy. He strode towards the door 'And, Izzy, remember-'

'No spiriting.' She finished. 'I promise. Cross my heart and hope to - well…' Hal smiled again. 'Good luck!' She called as he walked out the door. Izzy sighed, she couldn't believe how far they had come in just a few weeks, it's surprising how a friendship could grow after you save someone's life. Izzy still had no idea why she had done it but since then she had actually got quite close to Hal. Not romantically. No way. Not a chance. Never. She did have standards, the man had _killed_ her after all and she was always going to be a little afraid of him, she knew what he was capable of but, Charles had been right, as he so often was, Hal was actually a rather nice person, once you got past the fact that he was a murderer. There were times when she felt guilty for feeling this way about him, after what he had done to Maggie but then, she was so sure that Maggie had gone to a better place that she found herself not really feeling guilty at all, in fact she was close to forgiving him. Close, but not quite.

The other thing she was dealing with at the moment was the fact that she had killed someone. Well, Richard was already dead but she had forced him over to the other side through someone else's door without him finishing his unfinished business. Had he gone to the same place that everyone else went to? Was he safe and happy with his family now, as he had always wanted? Or was he somewhere else, somewhere different, somewhere bad? And if he was then it was Izzy who had sent him there, it was all her fault, the guilt of this haunted her every waking moment. She had spoken to Hal about it but he had no clue about where Richard was, he wasn't an expert on the afterlife, he had never been there.

'Charles?' Izzy asked, 'What _is_ a dog fight?' She had heard them mentioned many times and had only just realised that she didn't quite know what they entailed.

Charles' eyes lit up and he started explaining, excitedly. 'Basically, we get a werewolf, put it in a cage at full moon, let it transform and fight whatever we put in there with it. Wether that be a human or vampire or another wolf.'

'Yes, because werewolves exist too. Of course. How silly of me not to think of that.' Said Izzy sarcastically, this world just kept getting stranger.

Charles laughed. 'Then we bet on the outcome.' He finished. 'Hal's actually quite good at it.'

'I bet he is.' Said Izzy, slightly to herself. 'So what makes this dog fight so special?'

'Hal's been planning this for months.' Charles replied, with clear admiration for his maker. 'He's managed to round up six werewolves, which isn't easy, they're rare. All dog fights in London have been banned so that the wolves aren't harmed, Hal wants them all in top fighting condition, they've been starved for the past week, they're viscous. Tomorrow night, we put them all in a cage and bet on how many survive. If the Old Ones aren't impressed by that then nothing will impress them.'

Charles had said all of this with a look of absolute glee on his face. Izzy has had to get used to the bloodthirsty jokes that vampires come out with, they still made her sick though.

'What are the Old Ones actually doing here? What do they want?'

'I don't think they _want_ anything, they're just on a tour of Britain. You have to understand that some of these people are thousands of years old, they need a change of scenery every once in a while. They're docking in London, then going all the way round the country, stopping anywhere there is a colony of vampires, checking that systems are in place, that everything's running smoothly, and basically flaunting their authority. In a few months time, they will return to London to sail back to wherever it is they came from, which is one of the reasons Hal is so nervous, he has to arrange both their arrival and their departure.'

'He really wants to be one of them, doesn't he?'

'The thing with Hal is that he's ambitious, he wants to be better than everyone else, it's somewhat of an obsession for him, I don't know why. I asked him once…' Charles shuddered 'never again.'

Around an hour later, five carriages pulled up outside the hotel that Hal had "acquired" for the occasion. He said that he had chosen it for its expensive decoration, luxurious accommodation and plentiful cellar space which was currently being occupied by the former owners, guests and staff of the hotel. And six werewolves.

Hal got out of the first and significantly shabbier carriage and ran to each of the other four in turn, holding the doors open so that the Old Ones could get out. Izzy watched from the window of the hotel.

There were eleven of them and they were the most mismatched looking group of people that Izzy had ever seen. Men and women of every age and nationality, all with rather strange dress sense.

One of the younger looking men, the one with red hair, seemed to be in charge of the others, he was the one whom Hal was paying the most attention to. As they got closer to the hotel Izzy noticed some strange things about his appearance. He didn't look healthy. His skin was white and you could see hundreds of tiny purple veins through it At that moment, Hal had obviously told him a joke of some sort as the red headed man smiled to reveal blackened teeth. The one thing that was common with all of these strange individuals was the way they held themselves. Like they were the most important people in the world and knew it, like they were gods among men.

Hal had been right, they didn't pay any attention to Izzy, which suited her just fine. It ment she could watch them.

She was right about the vampire with red hair being the leader, his name was Mr Snow and apparently he had been around for over two and a half millennia. When Hal and Charles had said the Old Ones were _old_ she hadn't really thought about it that much but watching them, the way they were, you could really see the history just dripping off of them, the age in their eyes, they made Hal seem like a child. Izzy wondered if one day, if she never found her door, she would be like that. So aged, so wise, so tired with life, or death as the case may be, she didn't think she could cope with that, but she wasn't ready to leave yet.

The most interesting thing that Izzy found with watching the Old Ones was seeing them drink blood. They did not drink straight from the vein like Hal did every few days. Instead they drank from crystal decanters and expensive looking goblets. The most interesting thing was how much they seemed to enjoy it, like the blood was everything to them. When Izzy had asked Hal why he drank blood he had said 'because there is no greater feeling.' Izzy had assumed that it must be good but the idea of drinking it day in, day out for thousands of years, surely you'd get tired of it. Izzy wondered how something could feel _that_ good, she wondered about it a lot.

The following evening, the dog fight took place. Izzy had thought that after being dead and living with vampires for two and a half months, nothing could surprise her. She was wrong.

Seeing a werewolf transform would have been a truly unique experience. Seeing six of them do it was something else. It repulsed her but at the same time intrigued her, she couldn't tear her eyes away from the spectacle unfolding in the cage. It was barbaric.

The Old Ones seemed to be enjoying themselves though. Izzy knew this boded well for Hal, she had kept her promise and everything was going exactly according to his plans.

Two days later, carriages arrived outside the hotel to escort the Old Ones to the next city that they were visiting. Izzy stood with Charles and Hal as they saw them off. The second the carriages were out of sight Hal hugged Izzy. It caught her a little off guard but in a moment it was over, Hal was laughing and patting Charles on the shoulder, a permanent grin plastered on his face, everything had gone perfectly. Izzy had never seen him so happy and she couldn't help but be happy for him. In that moment, she forgot everything, she forgot that she was dead, forgot who killed her, forgot what Hal was. It was just the three of them, Izzy, Hal and Charles, three immortals sharing a happy ending.

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**Aww... Ok, enough with the halpy endings now! Next chapter, things kick off. **

**It might be up early because I'm on study leave now so I might release it on Monday as a treat for you on my birthday :)**

**Thanks for reading, reviews _very_ welcome!**


	10. No Greater Feeling

**Chapter 9! I think I'm just about half way through now. This chapter is a bit short but I needed the cliffhanger so I couldn't join two chapters up. It includes an idea that ive been thinking about for a while but have been yet to find a character to pull it off... until now. Enjoy!**

**********Thanks to 0positiv and lozzielo for the reviews**

**********Thanks to anyone who has added me as story/author favourite/alert.**

**********I don't own Being Human**

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**Chapter 9: No Greater Feeling**

**13th May 1619**

Izzy had never exactly been a fan of hunting when she was alive but even she had to admit, that watching Hal hunt was truly something to marvel over. Of course, his quarry wasn't boar or deer and he didn't do it in a forrest, it was people and he hunted in plain sight.

Tonight it was one of the servants, a girl named Eleanor, she was only fourteen, too young, Izzy thought but she knew it couldn't be helped, when Hal had chosen his feast then there was no stopping him. Gone were the days when she had been disgusted by what Hal did, she wasn't even squeamish anymore. She understood that he was a vampire and vampires drank blood. This wasn't to say that she had forgotten about Lady Jane Mawer, the dry vampire, but Izzy had sat in on everyone of Hal's "meals" since the Old Ones had left and the look of ecstasy on his face when he fed… there truly must be no greater feeling. The curiosity that had burned in her since the Old One's visit had become almost unbearable.

Izzy watched as Hal enticed a giggling Eleanor into a spare room, he wasn't going to take her back to his, it had already been redecorated too many times. Izzy couldn't help but think about how incredibly stupid these girls were, how they didn't see the threats in his compliments, the hunger behind his charm. Then she reminded herself, she had fallen for it too.

When Eleanor's ghost appeared, Izzy told her to avert her gaze from Hal and watched as she passed through her door. This was the other reason why she watched him kill: so she could help the ghost. She remembered how she had felt in the moments after her death, how confused she had been, she wished that someone had been there to explain it to her. And that, in a way, made the killing bearable, the fact that she was helping them, that they were going somewhere else, somewhere better, and they weren't stuck here like her. Although, being stuck here wasn't shaping up to be a particularly bad thing.

When the door closed and vanished Izzy turned back to Hal. He was still feeding, completely oblivious to anything that had just happened, he seemed to be enjoying himself. Izzy's hand twitched, she had just had an idea. Surely Hal wouldn't mind, he probably wouldn't even remember in the morning. She had been so curious and it had been so long since she had felt anything, especially something that felt as good as that clearly did. Surely a taste couldn't hurt.

* * *

When Hal awoke the following morning, Izzy was asleep on the bed beside him. Asleep. He didn't think ghosts could sleep, not properly at least. But there she was, eyes closed, deep breathing, peaceful. Something was wrong.

He sat up and called her name, snapping his fingers in front of her face. He had heard of ghosts feeling tired just before they faded and he didn't want her to fade. He was surprised at his concern, he hadn't felt concerned for someone over than himself in a long tim but he had grown accustomed to her presence, even when he was hunting it was somehow comforting to know that she was there. He didn't understand it.

She stirred. Her eyes flicked open and she smiled, lazily.

'Good morning' she sighed then rolled over and fell straight off the bed. Hal heard what sounded like drunken giggles coming from the floor. He got up, frowning, something strange was definitely going on.

'Izzy, are you alright?'

'Course I am.' she replied, getting to her feet, still giggling. 'Never better.' At this point she slipped in some of the remanence of...what was her name? Elizabeth? No. Elsie? No. Eleanor! That was it!

With his supernatural reflexes Hal reached out and grabbed Izzy's arm before she fell flat on her face. He looked into her eyes and found more reason to frown. They were black. Not the complete black orbs of a vampire but the sea green of her iris had vanished, to be replaced with darkness. It was like she had just fed, but that was impossible, wasn't it?

'Izzy, what's happened?'

She sighed. 'Okay, confession time. So you remember Richard?' she was slurring her words slightly and pacing, restlessly although careful to avoid the mess of congealed blood and body parts on the floor.

'That ghost who tried to kill me?'

'Yeah, well he taught me some… ghosty tricks, and one of them was how to taste.' Hal was puzzled. It must have shown on his face. 'so, basically,' Izzy explained, animatedly, 'if a ghost touches a person with a body and concentrates, then the ghost can feel what the person is feeling. It's quite fun actually. Anyway, last night, while you were "having fun" I saw Eleanor through her door and then… I may have…'

Hal watched her for a bit, cogs turning in his head while he put two and two together. 'Izzy, are you saying that you… tasted the blood through me?'

She nodded. 'Are you angry?'

Hal nearly laughed, she clearly was blood drunk, the Izzy he knew would never have shown such concern like this.

'No,' he replied, 'I just didn't know that ghosts could do th-'

'Is this how you feel all the time?' Izzy interrupted, she had obviously been wanting to ask him this since she woke up. 'Because, if it is, then you are _completely _forgiven for killing me and Maggie and _anyone _else because this… I feel amazing, I-I haven't felt anything in so long, apart from the occasional beer from a human in _The Blood Barrel,_ I feel powerful, like I could do anything, like I could walk on water or move mountains. I feel like I could fly. And I feel like I want to do it again.'

Hal watched Izzy all through her speech, he remembered his first time, the sensation, feeling powerful, indestructible. He remembered Charles saying that Izzy was like a recruit, she really was living up to that description. She had the hunger now and in order to settle it she needed him, it was nice to be needed.

* * *

**Once again, I'm sorry it's a bit short.**

**A few chapters ago I asked the question 'to Hizzy or not to Hizzy?' since then i have decided not to but I just thought id let you know that if I had decided to go ahead with it, then this chapter is where it would have happened, when Izzy was completely off her head, although I think they would have encountered a similar problem to Annie and Mitchell.**

**So, it's my birthday today and reviews make lovely presents... hint hint... Im joking, but seriously, reviews are _very_ welcome, as always :) **


	11. The Red Shield

**I appear to be churning chapters out now... I've got to the exciting bit :)**

**Thanks to 0positiv, lozzielo, Shaniahh and fleemneek for the reviews.**

**********Thanks to anyone who has added me as story/author favourite/alert.**

**********I don't own Being Human.**

* * *

**Chapter 10: The Red Shield**

**22nd July 1619**

Eleanor, Elizabeth, Mary, Ann, Joan, Alice, Susanna, Emma and Agnes.

These were the names that ran through Izzy's mind everytime she slept. These were the names that startled her everytime she heard them called out in the street. These were the names that she would never forget. For these were the names of all the girls who's blood Izzy had tasted. Or at least, all the girls who's names she had asked before she helped them through their doors. Recently, she had stopped asking their names and then, stopped helping them completely. Too desperate to loose herself in the taste of their blood.

Eleanor, Elizabeth, Mary, Ann, Joan, Alice, Susanna, Emma and Agnes.

* * *

'Don't you have servants to do that for you?'

Izzy was lying on the bed watching Hal polish his shield. She was still feeling a little light headed from earlier. Hal seemed to get over the blood drunkenness a lot faster than her, she supposed it was because he had been doing it for so much longer.

'They don't do it properly.' Hal replied without looking up at her.

'Can't you just, I don't know, lord it over them and say "I want this shield polished so hard that I can see my face in it"?' asked Izzy, making her voice deep when she impersonated him.

'I can't do that.' Hal laughed.

'Of course you can, you're a knight and a vampire, you can do anything.'

'No, I mean I can't see my face.' He replied. 'Come over here' he said when Izzy looked puzzled.

Izzy didn't bother getting up, she spirited behind him. He didn't jump like he used to, he had got used to it now. Hal gestured for her to look into the back of the shield where he had been polishing. She did so. And then did a double take.

'But… but you're not… that's impossible… how?' she stammered. She glanced at Hal. 'Vampire thing?' she asked.

'Vampire thing.' He replied with a smile. 'I need a shit.' He said, getting up.

'Nice.' Izzy replied, without removing her eyes from the back of the shield, she had noticed something else.

After Hal left the room Izzy still continued to stare at her reflection in the back of the shield. She couldn't remember properly looking at it since before she died and certainly not since before she started tasting blood. She looked the same as she always had but different somehow. Her eyes, they were black but that was only the obvious change, there were more, subtler changes that unnerved her more than the change in eye colour. She looked harder, crueler, there was no playful innocence in her face anymore. She looked like a monster.

So this was why vampires let themselves become what they were. They couldn't see what they were. They weren't faced with themselves, day after day and that made doing the things that they did easy. But Izzy could see herself now, for what she had become, and she hated it.

How could she have let this happen? How could she have just turned away and let countless innocent people get slaughtered, and then accepted it, made excuses for him, and then she had enjoyed it. Looking now, into the eyes of her reflection in that red shield, she didn't recognise herself. She was a good person once, she was sure of it, perhaps with a few loose morals but never evil. She had been seduced by the blood, she had become just like Hal: a monster.

But was he? Izzy had been a good person once, maybe he had been too and with no reflection he could not be confronted with it the way she had just been.

Izzy didn't know but one thing was certain: she would never taste blood again.

_That_ however, proved easier said than done.

* * *

She tried to hide her shaking hand from him but Hal noticed it all the same.

'Are you okay?' He asked. It had been several days since she had last tasted blood.

'I'm fine' Izzy managed although her voice shook slightly.

'Are you sure because you don't look well and I didn't think ghosts _could_ not look well. We can go and get a drink if you-'

'No!' Izzy interrupted, a little more forcefully than she had aimed for. 'I think… I think I'm going to stop doing that now.' She said.

'Stop?' asked Hal, like it was the most ludicrous idea he had ever heard in his life.

'Yeah.' Izzy knew that he would never understand the truth so she cast her mind around for a lie, some explanation that he might be able to comprehend. 'It's getting boring,' she said, remembering a conversation that she had once had with Charles, 'I need a change.'

He seemed to understand but still questioned her. 'It's just, when a vampire stops feeding... it hurts.'

'Well, I'm not a vampire.' Replied Izzy definitely. 'Would you excuse me for a moment?' Izzy didn't wait for a response. She spirited upstairs and barely made it to Hal's room before she collapsed on to the bed, clutching tightly at her stomach as cravings racked through her. This was pain like she had never felt before.

Izzy didn't understand. How could she feel pain when she didn't have a body? She was just a spirit, a mind. Maybe that was it. Maybe all the pain, all the craving was all in her mind. And if that was the case then all she had to do was think of something else. Something else...

She racked her brains for something, anything that could take her mind off the pain. She sifted through her memories of the past few months, after her death, of her life before that, but nothing was strong enough.

She dug deeper, into the earliest parts of her childhood, arguing with her brother, her father teaching her to play cards… still no effect.

She dug deeper still and came across things that she didn't recognise. Wars, violence, rape, murder and blood. Lots of blood. Where the hell had _these_ memories come from?

The memories were horrible to watch but the more she focused on the mysterious and gruesome images that were flashing through her mind, the more the pain in her gut lessened. So she kept digging until finally she found a memory that didn't make her want to tear her eyes out.

She was in a bed chamber. It wasn't well decorated and it wasn't very big, in fact it was close to what Izzy would call squalor. She was sitting on a bed with an itchy straw mattress, opposite her was a large mirror with a crack running down the middle. Izzy stared into the mirror and the reflection stared back at her, but the reflection wasn't her own, it was that of a young boy. A boy with green/brown eyes.

* * *

**Fleem you were right, Izzy feeding couldn't be allowed to stand but now she understands Hal a lot more and as you can probably guess, she is about to learn even more about him.**

**Thanks for reading everyone. Reviews _very_ welcome.**


	12. Bet

**Getting to the exciting bit... :)**

**Thanks to 0positiv, Brookesey, MancVamp and fleemneek for the reviews :)**

**********Thanks to anyone who has added me as story/author favourite/alert.**

**********I don't own Being Human.**

* * *

**Chapter 11: Bet**

**29th July 1619**

'My Lady?'

The words came out of Izzy's mouth but they weren't in her voice, they sounded deeper, manly, it was a voice that she knew well. She was standing in a corridor in a manor house, by the looks of it. Out the window she could see several acres of beautiful gardens and a large willow tree overlooking a small lake. In the distance, however, she could see the many buildings and spires of London.

In front of her knelt a girl. She was wearing a red silk dress that looked like it would have cost a fortune. Her head was bowed so that her pale blonde hair fell down over her face. Her shoulders were shaking. Izzy couldn't see the girl's face but she looked familiar somehow.

Izzy slowly walked around the girl to the door of the room that it looked like the girl had just come out of. The door was ajar and smoke was seeping out from around it.

Izzy pushed open the door, expecting to see a fire but did not find one even though smoke pored out of the room the moment the door was open. When the smoke cleared Izzy could see that she was in a small but richly decorated room with a table set with a half finished game of cards. Empty clothes, shattered glass and dust littered the floor. And there was blood. Blood!

Izzy's eyes snapped open and she fell back onto the bed with a groan. Another vampire memory! Jesus, Hal seemed to have an awful lot of those! But it wasn't those that Izzy was interested in, she wanted to see his human memories but they were proving a little reluctant to come to the surface.

Izzy glanced over at Hal, he hadn't looked up at her when she groaned, too busy reading a letter. He had his organizing head back on, the Old ones were due to return soon. This time was different though, he wasn't nervous, he was excited. After last time's success, he couldn't wait to prove himself again.

She rolled over and closed her eyes again, trying to find a human memory. She had considered putting her hand on his head while he was asleep and searching his memories first hand but he mostly fell asleep blood drunk and she really didn't want to feel that again, it would be too tempting to go back there. To lose herself again.

It had been a week since Izzy had stopped tasting blood and the cravings had now stopped completely. She had been right, they were all in her mind and now she was so focused on Hal's memories all the pain had just faded away.

Sometimes she felt guilty for doing this, riffling through someone's memories was a huge breach of privacy but she felt she needed to, she needed to know more about him. Ever since she had seen her reflection she had wondered what Hal had been like before he became a vampire, she needed to know if he was good once, if he was innocent, and if he was then she had a plan.

* * *

Three days later Izzy had finally found a memory that gave her enough information to find out more about Hal's childhood but in order to do so, she needed to go on a little expedition.

Hal wouldn't notice she had gone, he was in an all day meeting. Izzy had told him that she didn't want to go, that it would be too boring and that politics wasn't her thing. He understood. So Izzy set out across London, bare footed and wearing nothing but a chemise, in search of answers.

Finally, after an hour long walk to find a place she only knew from a century old memory, she reached her destination.

She made her way down a back ally that was familiar even though she had never been there before. Izzy shivered. It wasn't from the cold, she didn't feel the cold. She had never been to this part of London before. It was creepy, sent chills down her spine. And she thought _she_ was supposed to be the spooky one. She knew she wasn't the only ghost here. She turned a corner and found the place she was looking for.

But the brothel was no longer there. Instead she gazed upon a burnt out shell that nobody had bothered to rebuild.

Izzy stepped inside and sighed. What had she expected? That by being here, in the place where Hal was born, the place where he grew up, that some sudden revelation would come to her and that she would understand everything about him? No. She was no closer to unlocking his past than she was three days ago. This had been a wasted journey.

'You lost lovely?'

Izzy span around and gasped. In his memories, Hal had never been quite sure which of the six prostitutes that had lived and worked here was his mother but seeing the woman standing before her now, Izzy was sure. This was her. She had his eyes.

'No, I'm exactly where I wanted to be.' Izzy smiled. 'My name is Lady Isabella Fiston.' She said approaching the woman. 'I came to find you. It's Bet isn't it?' She didn't know where it had come from, but suddenly she found she knew the woman's name. Memories of her flashed up in Izzy's mind. She could remember Bet's arms around her as she cried at a grazed knee. She could remember Bet singing her to sleep while screams were heard in the next room. And she could remember Bet's body, cold and broken on the floor. Her dark hair matted and covering her face, her green/brown eyes empty and hand shaped bruises around her throat. Of course, Izzy didn't really remember these things at all, but she knew that Hal did.

'My apologies m'lady,' said Bet, with a small curtsy 'but you shouldn't be down 'ere, these are dangerous parts.'

'I think I've already seen the worst that life can throw at me.' Izzy smiled and sat herself down on a crumbled brick wall. Bet did the same. 'I was wondering if I could speak to you about a boy who was born here, grew up here. It would have been about a hundred and thirty years ago. I think you might have known him?'

Bet's eyes widened. 'You mean my 'enry?'

'Yes!' Izzy replied, perhaps a little too excitedly, 'Yes, I was wondering if you could tell me about him? You were his mother, weren't you?' She added the last part cautiously, wondering how Bet would react. A small smile twitched at the corner of Bet's mouth and a glint of a tear appeared in her eye. She didn't deny it.

'Why do you want to know?'

'Well, I know him and I wanted to know what he was like when he was hu- younger.' Izzy wasn't going to tell Bet that her son was a vampire. She didn't need to now what he had become.

A soppy smile came over Bet's face, 'I remember the day 'e was born, like it was yesterday. I remember looking in to 'is little eyes and thinking that 'e was perfect, the one good thing in this wicked world, an angel.'

Izzy's eyes widened, this was what she had come to hear. 'He was good then? Innocent?'

''E was perfect.' Suddenly the smile on Bet's face vanished and was replaced by a look of complete suspicion. 'You say you know 'im, 'ow? 'E's got to be long dead by now.'

'He is,' said Izzy quickly, trying to cover her tracks, 'but we live together, in the Tower of London.' She hoped Bet would just assume that Hal was another ghost, Izzy didn't want to lie to her.

'What's 'e like?' Asked Bet, her smile returning.

Izzy looked into those familiar eyes and decided to tell the truth, well some of it anyway. 'He's a knight. Rich and powerful, well respected, on first name terms with the King.'

'I bet 'e's young.' Said Bet sadly.

'No. No, he's a very old man.' Yes, Hal had died a young man but behind the eyes he was very old indeed.

'Is 'e 'appy?' Asked Bet.

Izzy thought about all the horrible memories she had seen, all the wars all the killing. Then she thought about the Hal she had known since her death, powerful, rich. She thought about him just after the Old Ones had left, that one moment of sheer joy. She thought about him now, so excited about the Old One's return, to get what he has wanted for decades.

'Yes, yes right now I would say he was very happy indeed.'

Bet smiled, a truly happy smile and for a moment all of the hardness that her life had dealt on her face faded away. Izzy noticed that Bet wasn't looking at her but at something over her shoulder. She turned to see Bet's door, brilliant white, so great a contrast from the dingy wall around it that it was dazzling, almost as dazzling as the light that came from behind it when it was opened.

'Thank you, m'lady.' whispered Bet.

'I don't understand, what did I do?'

'I just needed to know 'e was 'appy.' And with that, Bet passed through her door, to the better place.

Izzy watched the wall for a long time after the door disappeared. She was smiling. She had got what she had come for, she knew that once up on a time, Hal was good and that's all she needed to know. She knew he could be saved and she was going to be the one to save him. But first, she had to stop him from killing.

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**I hope you enjoyed, reviews _very_ welcome :)**


	13. Strange Goings On

**Seeing as eyes and teeth asked so nicely, a new chapter! It's only a short one because, once again, I needed the cliff hanger (because I'm evil) but this is the exciting bit that I've been going on about :)**

**I have loads of exams coming up but I've already written the next two chapters because they are my favorites and ****I got excited **so I should still be able to keep chapters coming out regularly :)

**Thanks to MancVamp, 0positiv, Brookesey and eyes and teeth for the reviews**

**********Thanks to anyone who has added me as story/author favourite/alert.**

**********I don't own Being Human.**

**Enjoy! x**

* * *

**Chapter 12: Strange Goings On.**

**21st of August 1619**

'I'll just get us some more drinks.' Hal whispered in the ear of the the pretty girl with the light ginger hair and the freckles on her nose whom he was slowly succeeding in getting more and more drunk. She giggled as a response and Hal walked up to the bar carrying their tankards and asked Tom for a refill.

'No ghost tonight then?' asked Tom. Hal shook his head, Izzy had been behaving very oddly of late. First she had started tasting blood which he had thought was a little out of character at the time given her initial disgust at his way of life but then he had come to understand, he knew what blood could do, even to those with the strongest of morals, look at Charles, and even Hal himself would have cringed when alive if he had seen some of the things that he did today. After a while Hal had come to accept, even enjoy her company whilst he fed, she was just like a recruit.

So when she told him that she no longer wanted to taste the blood he was, understandably, a bit shocked. In all of his one hundred and four years of being a vampire, he had never once even contemplated the idea that he might one day stop drinking blood. He had heard of vampires doing it of course, Jane was just one of them, but he had always thought of them as fools. Why on earth would _anyone_ want to stop doing something that felt so good? It never lasted any way, eventually the cravings became too much and they were killing again. This wasn't happening with Izzy though, but then, Hal supposed, she wasn't a vampire.

Since she had stopped she had been a little more distant than before. Perhaps she was just giving him space so he could focus on the Old One's return, perhaps she was angry with him about getting her to start tasting blood, not that it was his fault, and he would be very annoyed if that was the reason, he never asked her to do it!

But Hal didn't want to think about that tonight. Not about Izzy, not about the Old Ones, not about anything except the gorgeous, drunken, freckled beauty who was just waiting for him to drain the life out of her.

Hal picked up the drinks and turned around but the girl was nowhere to be seen. He tossed the tankards on the floor in a rage. Why did this keep happening? Why was it that everytime he managed to get even close to a girl in the past few weeks, they vanished the moment he turned his back. He hadn't fed live in ages!

His stomach growled so he ordered a pint of blood from Tom to numb the pain. Most vampires in his situation would just go and find themselves a whore, a girl who couldn't refuse, but he had vowed that he would never do that. Not with his heritage.

He ordered two more pints from Tom and downed them in one. That would have to last him. For now.

* * *

Izzy watched as the girl with the ginger hair staggered back home. Hal hadn't killed in weeks. Everything was going to plan. For now.

* * *

The 27th of August 1619 was a day that both Izzy and Hal would never forget, for that was the day that everything changed, that was the day that the Old Ones returned.

Their visit started very much the same way as the previous one. Hal had been pacing, nervous. Charles had reassured him. Izzy had just sat there.

Three werewolves had survived the fight last time and Hal had managed to find two more. There was only one human now, they were betting on which wolf would kill him.

Hal was sitting up at the high table with the Old Ones. Mr Snow had been impressed with his handling of their last visit, he had permitted Hal to sit at his right hand, pushing a rather affronted looking Edgar Wyndham to his left.

Up there, Hal looked like he belonged, like he fitted, like he was one of them. Izzy knew that he was happy, this was what he had always wanted, but she wasn't happy for him like last time. Izzy watched them, drinking blood by the gallon, telling bloodthirsty jokes, watching and laughing as a man was torn limb from limb by five hell hounds who eventually turned on each other. Hal may have looked at home up there, but the boy that Izzy had seen in the stolen memories, Bet's son, the angel, he didn't look like he fitted at all.

Izzy didn't know what possessed her to do it. All she knew was that she was standing, watching Hal talk to Mr Snow and the Old Ones when the bars of the cage began to rattle and shake. She knew that it was her causing it and she knew that she aught to stop, but she couldn't. Somehow, she knew that this had to happen, that this was right. The entire cage was swaying now, the vampires hadn't noticed, they were far too blood drunk, laughing and joking and having a good time, they had no idea. No idea of their fate until finally, the door of the cage fell of its hinges, and the werewolves got out.

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**Doof doof du du da da da da (my attempt at the Eastenders theme thing)**

**I hope you enjoyed, the next few chapters are some of my favorites so and are very sad so have the kleenex at the ready (I nearly cried writing them)**

**Reviews _very_ welcome :) x**


	14. I Hope You're Proud

**Ok, get your kleenex out, this is the sad one. For more than just the story, I've only just realised that, excluding this one, I only have 4 chapters and an epilogue left! sad times :'(**

**Thanks to 0positiv, eyes and teeth and make-mine-a-kiaora for the reviews**

**********Thanks to anyone who has added me as story/author favourite/alert.**

**********I don't own Being Human.**

**Enjoy! x**

* * *

**Chapter 13: I Hope You're Proud**

**28th August 1619**

Izzy was sitting on Hal's bed when he opened the door. He was limping, bleeding heavily from his forehead, supporting a rather spectacular black eye and his left arm looked like it had popped out of its socket. He looked up at her, his expression difficult to read, she wondered if he knew.

'The Old Ones have gone.' He started, his tone as unreadable as his face. 'They weren't supposed to leave till tomorrow but they decided that leaving now was for the best. Did you know that two of them got killed last night? Two Old Ones and a dozen of my men, well, they aren't my men anymore, I've been removed from power, of course.' For the first time a bit of emotion showed in his voice. Izzy felt a pang of guilt, she knew how important his position had been to him, quickly though, she squashed the guilt. She knew she had done the right thing.

'You promised me.' He stated, now looking into her eyes but Izzy found that she couldn't meet his. His voice was shaking but Izzy couldn't tell wether it was anger of tears that he was trying to contain. 'You looked me in the eyes and you promised me that you wouldn't spoil this for me. Why did you do it?'

'I was trying to help you.' Said Izzy quietly.

'Help me?' Izzy had never seen Hal like this before, such a mixture of emotions, he was so out of control. 'How the _hell _could this be helping me? I am lucky not to be a pile of dust right now, or dog food! You have just lost me everything that I have been working for for the past four decades! I hope you're proud of yourself.'

'Yes.' replied Izzy, still not meeting his eyes.

'Yes?'

'This is what I wanted.'

'You wanted to ruin any chance I might ever have at becoming an Old One?'

'Yes.' She met his eyes now and found that tears were filling her own, she needed him to understand. 'I don't want you to become one of them. The way they are, very inch of them is hunger and fury and evil and I don't want you to become like that. I don't want you to become cruel.'

'I am already cruel, Izzy! I thought you knew that! Or do I have to kill another of your relatives for you to see what I am?'

'No, because I already know what you are. Somewhere in there, there is a good man.'

'What on earth gives you that idea?' Hal laughed.

'I spoke to your mother.' Replied Izzy quietly, now was the time for truth.

'What?'

'At the brothel where you were born. She was a ghost.'

Hal stood stunned for a moment, processing what Izzy had just said. When he spoke his voice was low and shaky and Izzy caught an emotion that she had never seen in him before. Was it fear? 'I don't even know who my mother was, no, don't tell me, I don't want to know. How do you even know about that place?'

'When I used you, to taste the blood, it seems that some of your memories accidentally leaked out. I saw bit of your past, your childhood and I needed to know what you were like back then, when you were alive. She told me that you were innocent, the only good thing in her life. An angel. And I know that inside, you're not like the others, you can be saved.' Izzy said it all in a bit of a rush, getting it over with, she knew he would be angry with her for going through his memories.

'What do you mean "she _was_ a ghost"?'

'Well, she passed over, while I was there. I told her about you, not that you are a vampire but that you are rich, and powerful and old and happy. And that's all she needed to know.'

'So you have been trying to get me clean this entire time? Hang on, those girls, the ones who ran away the moment I turned my back, that was you, wasn't it?'

'I suggested that they leave. One of my favourite spiriting powers.'

'I still don't understand how on earth you think that I can be saved, maybe I was innocent as a child but aren't we all? And a decade or two of innocence doesn't make up for eleven more of being a monster!'

'Hal, I understand what the blood is like, what it does. It changes you, it changed me. But you can fight it, get back to the person you were. Look at Lady Jane Mawer, she's stopped drinking blood, I know that you can too.'

'I lost my innocence a long time before I died.' He said quietly.

'But you did have it once,' Izzy replied, 'you can find it again.'

Hal laughed. It was a humorless laugh, that went on for far too long. Izzy knew something wasn't quite right. When the laughter died, his voice was calm, quiet and thoughtful which somehow seemed to scare Izzy even more than his shouting.

'You know, Charles once said that you could be good for me but now I come to think about it, all I have ever got since I started talking to you is grief.'

'I saved your life.'

'A situation that I wouldn't have been in if you hadn't lead that ghost straight to me! No, it seems that for once, Charles was wrong, I would probably have been better off if I had never spoken to you.'

The words hit Izzy like a slap in the face. 'Hal, don't say that, you don't mean that.'

'No. No, I do.' It was like he was having an epiphany, a sudden realisation that felt like a death sentence to Izzy. 'From now on you are nothing to me. I will not speak to you, I will not listen to you, I will not even acknowledge your existence.'

'Hal-' Izzy was panicking, this could not be happening. For the past six months Hal had been pretty much _everything_ to her. This could _not_ be happening.

'You are peripheral, you are a ghost.'

'Hal please.' Tears spilled down Izzy's face, she could almost feel herself fading away, he was her root, she couldn't be without him.

'You are nothing.'

'Hal.'

'I need a drink.' He grabbed his coat and limped out of the room but before he shut the door behind him, he looked at her for one last time. 'Goodbye Izzy.'

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***Hears eyes and teeth sharpening a stake* I'm sorry, it had to happen! *Runs and hides***

**Thank you all very much for reading. Reviews _very_ welcome :) x**


	15. Coping With Loss

**Phew. The week from hell is finally over (three days, three exams) so now it's time for another chapter! This one is my favorite :)**

**Many thanks to 0positiv, eyes and teeth, brookesey and papreclaire for the reviews**

**************Thanks to anyone who has added me as story/author favourite/alert.**

**I don't own Being Human.**

**Enjoy x**

* * *

**Chapter 14: Coping With Loss**

**3rd November 1648**

It had been nearly thirty years since the incident with the Old Ones. Hal been true to his word, he hadn't spoken to Izzy, hadn't looked at her, hadn't even acknowledged her existence. She had given up trying to get him to do so a long time ago. Instead she just followed him around, watching, never participating. She was peripheral. She was a ghost. She was nothing.

She had no idea how she was still here, how she hadn't faded. At times she wished she had, it would have been better than seeing what was to come.

Her father had died at one point, she hadn't gone to his funeral, just like he had never gone to hers.

Hal had been removed from his position in London, the last they had heard, Lady Jane Mawer had replaced him. Mr Snow had seen the murder of her husband, not as treachery but as promise, potential. They had heard that she was feeding again, the idea of this always brought a lump to Izzy's throat, maybe vampires can never change.

They had traveled. Hal and Charles had decided they needed something different, something more exciting, they needed a war. So they had jumped on a boat to Germany to fight against the Catholics and naturally, Izzy had followed. She had seen so many terrible things in that war. It had changed her.

Now it was over, and they had returned home. Just Izzy and Hal. Charles had been caught with a broken pike, straight through the chest. Turned to dust instantly. Izzy had never seen a vampire die before. It was horrible, worse than watching a normal person die, at least then there was a body, and a ghost, but with Charles, he had just vanished, it was like he never existed. Izzy wondered where he was now, if he was anywhere at all. Perhaps he had just ended. She had considered asking Hal about it but knew better, he wouldn't answer her and besides, he was taking Charles' death very hard indeed. Charles had been his first recruit, like a son to Hal. A son and a friend. Izzy wanted to comfort him but how can you comfort someone when you are just as downcast as they are? Despite being a vampire Charles had been a good man, he didn't deserve to go like that. Izzy was grieving the only way she knew how, by keeping it bottled up, she couldn't talk to anyone about it. Hal was dealing with his grief in a very different way.

As soon as they had gotten off the ship, Hal had literally slaughtered everyone in his path, the streets had run red with blood. Men, women, children, rich, poor, old, young, they all fell at his fangs as he drank away the pain. Izzy had tried to help all the ghosts get through their doors but there were too many of them, so with a heavy heart, she had turned away, and continued to watch Hal rampage. For a time, it had seemed like nothing would stop him, like he would carry on forever until there was no one left in the world, but eventually his massacre was put to an end.

They had come in the night, they knew that that was when he hunted. They carried Bibles. Crucifixes and holy water. He had tried to flee but they had rounded him into a corner, wielding their torches and chanting holy words. He was like a caged animal. Trapped. And as the pain from the crosses became too much, he passed out.

Now Izzy found herself in the crypt of an old church. She had stayed with him, just like she always had. He was on the floor, writhing in agony. The priests had pinned crosses to the walls and door, in addition to those that adorned the tombs but it wasn't just that which was causing him pain. They had been down here for four days now. Four days without even a drop of blood. He must be going through hell. After the fifth day, Hal did something he hadn't done in a very long time. He said her name.

'Finally acknowledging my existence now are you?' Izzy replied, allowing a small smile to play on her face, tying to pretend that all of the wars and violence and grieving and death over the past three decades had done nothing to change her, that she was still the same girl. 'I wondered how long it would take for you to swallow your pride.'

'Get me out of here.' He whispered. It was obviously taking him a great deal of effort to formulate a sentence with the amount of pain he was in.

'I didn't hear the magic word.' She said, reenacting a conversation that was now a distant memory.

'Please' he said quietly.

'Sorry?'

'PLEASE!' He shouted. Izzy stared at him for a moment. She watched his mouth speak the word, the mouth that she had once longed to kiss, the mouth that had killed all of those people, the mouth that had killed Maggie, the mouth that had killed her. She had made up her mind, and carefully, she calculated her next move.

'They're going to burn you next week.' She began, as if this was a mundane conversation about the weather. 'I overheard them talking. They're getting everything ready, even using gunpowder, they say it's the only way to get rid of a demon as bad as you. Would you die if they blew you up?'

'Most things die, if you blow them up. Izzy, please just-' Hal began pleading again but Izzy interrupted, she needed to get this over with before she changed her mind.

'You know, I was thinking, maybe this could be a good thing. You always said that you were my root, the thing that was tying me to this world, so if you weren't here any more then-'

'You wouldn't get a door Izzy, you'd just disappear. Fade away like smoke.' His voice was panicked. Realisation had dawned on his face at what she was suggesting.

'Well, it doesn't look like I'm going to get a door anyway so smoke might be my only option.' Izzy let her mask slip, she was on the verge of tears now. 'I don't know how you can do it, this infinity. An eternity of just existing. It's driving me insane.'

'Izzy, I know this is hard but-'

'So I'm sorry, Hal,' she continued, as if he had said nothing, 'but I can't help you. I need this. I need an end. Maybe you do too.'

'No. Izzy please, I don't want to die.'

'Neither did I.' Izzy got up and began to walk towards the exit. Hal tried to follow but the crucifix on the door prevented him from doing so.

'So _now _you decide to leave me?' He shouted. She kept walking, straight through the door.

'Izzy!' He called after her but still she continued walking. She could hear his shouts echo throughout the old church. They turned to screams and she could tell that he was trying to get to the door again. She kept walking. She didn't look back.

* * *

**Sorry about yet another cliffhanger (evil shoe) I promise there isn't one next chapter :)**

**I hope you enjoyed reading this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. Only 3 and an epilogue left! *sobs***

**Thank you for reading, reviews _very_ welcome. :) **


	16. An Outside Eye

**New chapter to shut brookesey up :)**

**Big thank yous to eyes and teeth, MancVamp, Paperclaire, Kate, 0positiv, anyother, HalFTW and brookesey for the reviews. **

**************Thanks to anyone who has added me as story/author favourite/alert.**

**I don't own Being Human.**

**Enjoy x**

* * *

**Chapter 15: An Outside Eye**

**3rd November 1648**

Brother Mark made his way down the worn stone steps to the crypt. 'A demon' they had said. Mark didn't believe in demons, not anymore. Since he had died nothing was as black and white as it used to be, there wasn't just good and evil, there were so many shades of grey in-between.

He had seen the man they had carried into St. Benedict's five days ago, he didn't look like a demon. Covered in blood, unconscious and pale as death, he had looked more like a corpse, in fact, Mark had thought he was one, that was until he started screaming.

The screams had echoed throughout the church for several days. Everyone had heard him but no one went downstairs to help, they were actually glad to know he was in pain. This made him sick, these people were supposed to be men of God and yet they found pleasure in the suffering of a fellow man, it was disgusting.

The screaming had stopped now and Mark was going to investigate.

Stepping through the door, he saw the man instantly. Curled up in the fetal position, his hands wrapped over his head and covering his eyes. Mark couldn't tell if he was conscious or not, he wasn't moving but he was muttering under his breath, words that Mark couldn't quite catch except one. A name. Izzy.

So this was the man that was causing such a commotion, so much terror. Mark had heard what he had supposedly done, slaughtered hundreds of people, he couldn't quite believe it, but the others did and next week, wether he was guilty or not, this man would be burnt alive.

Mark knelt down beside the man, who seemed completely oblivious to Mark's presence. Ever since he had died of fever three years ago, he had been helping lost and misguided souls find their rest in the afterlife. His own door had never arrived, he doubted it ever would but he didn't really want it to. Ghosts often came to the church, looking for answers as to why they were still here and with Mark's help, they always found a resolution. He felt at peace here, even though he hadn't passed over, he felt like he was doing something good.

Soon enough, the man before him would be a ghost and he would need Mark's help, he was certain of it.

Cautiously, Mark placed his hand on the man's head, if he was to help then he needed to understand, needed to find out what the man was muttering, who this Izzy was.

As soon as Mark closed his eyes he gasped and withdrew his hand. He stared down at the man. What poor soul would be haunted with such terrors? Mark closed his eyes again and thought back to what he had seen, he turned his attention away from all the blood and then he saw her. A beautiful girl with long curly brown hair, penetrating blue-green eyes and a sad smile. Mark's eyes flicked open. He had seen that girl before.

* * *

Izzy was sitting in the front pew of the chapel, waiting. Waiting for the day to come where Hal would be dragged outside, tied to a stake and then go up in smoke, and then she would too. It couldn't come quick enough, she thought. She was so tired, so sick of being here, she had seen so many horrors in this world in the past three decades, she couldn't possibly stay here any longer.

Dragging herself away from suicidal thoughts, she looked at the church around her. The last time she had been in a church was at her own funeral, she probably wouldn't have gone if Hal hadn't encouraged her, he had tried to cheer her up.

'I'm worried that if you start to cry, then you will end up throwing furniture around again and this room has already been redecorated enough in the past two weeks.'

Izzy smiled at the memory, then shook her head, trying to rid herself of it. She felt a tiny part inside of her squirm, the part that had made her save Hal from Richard, the part that had driven her to find Bet, the part that still believed that he could be saved. She squashed it. She could not give way to sentiment and nostalgia, Hal was a monster and this had to happen.

'Are you Izzy?'

Izzy blinked and glanced sideways at the man sitting next to her on the pew. He was young, very young, too young to be dead, then she reminded herself that she had probably died a lot younger. It was a strange thought, Izzy didn't feel nineteen any more, she felt so much older. The man was wearing a monk's garb and he looked kind but Izzy wasn't fooled by that, she knew now that there was no such thing as kind.

'Ghost or werewolf?' she asked, with a hint of boredom in her voice, nothing surprised her anymore.

'I'm sorry?' asked the monk.

'Well you're not a vampire because you're in a church and you're not writhing in agony but you can see me so… ghost or werewolf?'

The monk blinked. 'Ghost' he said, a little surprised.

'How do you know my name?'

'You came in with the fellow downstairs.' Stated the monk.

'That doesn't explain how you know my name.' Said Izzy quickly, the mention of Hal had caught her off guard.

'I just went down there. He's dreaming, calling for you in his sleep.'

'Is he?' asked Izzy indifferently.

'Are you going to go down and see him? I know he can't see you but it might give him some sort of peace.' The monk said.

'Oh, he can see me, but, in answer to your question: no, I'm not going down there, and I can't think of any reason why I would want to.'

'You do realise they're going to burn him next week?' exclaimed the monk.

'Yes, and he deserves it.' Izzy stated

The monk frowned 'How could you say that? I don't believe that any man deserves that, no matter what their crimes.'

'He's not a man.' Izzy said simply, the monk's frown deepened. 'What's your name?'

'Mark.'

'And how long have you been in this world, Mark? How long have you been dead?'

'A few years.' He replied. Izzy smiled, Mark reminded her of herself just after her death, so naive, so ignorant to the fact that there were monsters out there.

'Then you haven't been in this world long enough to know the truth about it. It is evil and cruel and Hal is the worst of it. I have watched him slaughter hundreds, no, thousands of people in the past three decades, he is a monster and he deserves everything he gets.'

'Then why did you stay with him?' For the first time Izzy found herself unable to answer his question. If she had stopped believing that he could change then why did she stay? That little part of her reared its head again, she squashed it but with more difficulty than last time.

'I believe that people are capable of salvation.' Said Mark, quietly. 'No one is born evil, we had innocence once, we can find it again.'

Izzy's head snapped up, wasn't that more or less exactly what she had said to Hal all those years ago?

'I believe that you think that too' continued Mark. 'Even with him. No, _especially_ with him.'

Izzy felt her eyes grow hot with tears, tears that she had been holding back for thirty years. She blinked them away.

'You're right,' Mark continued, 'I don't know much about the monsters that you have obviously seen in this world but when I look at that man downstairs, I don't see a monster, I see a man. A man who cares about you, almost as much as you care about him. Are you really willing to let him burn?'

* * *

Izzy threw a blanket over the final crucifix and turned to look at the pitiful creature on the floor at her feet. Mark was right, he did look human.

She knelt down and pulled the last remaining blanket over him. He was feverish, he needed to sweat it out. She placed her hand on his forehead and he relaxed slightly, her cool touch calming him and as if by reflex, he wrapped his arms around her waist, looking for something, anything to hold on to to help fight the pain of the withdrawal.

Izzy just sat there with her murderer's head in her lap, stroking his sweat drenched hair. That tiny part of her had surfaced and grown until it filled her completely. She knew its name now. Hope.

One more chance.

* * *

**Thank you for reading :)**

**Oh, and 0po, this isn't the same 'cell and crosses' incident as mentioned in 'Hold the front page'. I figured that if Pete and some monks in Budapest could come up with a vampire trap, then so could an angry mob in 17th century England.**

**As always, reviews _very_ welcome. I'm on holiday next week but I'll try to keep writing, my friends will just have to put up with it, I think I only have a chapter and a half left to write! *sobs* but I've already started my next fic so it's all good. Gosh, fic writing really is addictive! XD**


	17. The Great Sir Henry Yorke

**Penultimate Chapter :'( well, unless you count the Epilogue as a chapter, in which case this is the p****enultimate ****p****enultimate chapter :P**

**************Thank you to eyes and teeth, make-mine-a-kiaora, 0positiv, inKtoxication, paperclaire, anyother, brookesey and MancVamp for the reviews :)**

**************Thanks to anyone who has added me as story/author favourite/alert.**

**I don't own Being Human.**

**Enjoy x**

* * *

**Chapter 16: The Great Sir Henry Yorke**

**5th November 1648**

Hal was standing alone in a field. Topless, bloody and breathing deeply. A fork of lightning flashed across the red sky, it was followed closely by thunder. The field around him was momentarily lit up. It was a battle field. All around him were bodies. All dead.

But when a second flash cut across the sky, they were all standing up. And when the third came, they had moved.

So many people. And Hal recognised every single one of them. They were all the men and women that he had killed, and not just them but all of those who's deaths he had caused, those who died in dog fights, those who Charles had killed, they were all there, all except one.

They closed in on him, forming a silent circle around their murderer and just when Hal thought things couldn't get any worse, it started to rain.

Drops the size of apples fell from the sky and splashed to the ground but it wasn't water and now Hal knew why the sky was red. Normally the sight of so much blood would entice him, intoxicate him, but right now it made him feel sick.

The blood didn't just drain away either and soon enough he found himself waist deep in it, and it was still rising. The thunder had caught up with the lighting now and Hal soon found himself having to tread water, well, tread blood.

He was just about managing to keep his head above the surface when he felt a hand grab his ankle and try to pull him down. He kicked away but soon found more hands, dragging him under. All of his victims, getting their revenge. It terrified him.

A bright light was just above him and Hal looked up. Izzy was there. She looked like an angel, dressed all in white with her long hair flowing. Hal reached out for her to help him but she smiled sadly and tuned away. Hal called out to her but he felt a cold hand on his forehead drag him down to the depths.

His eyes flicked open, the cool hand was still there but it wasn't frightening anymore, it was soothing. Izzy was there.

'You came back.' He croaked, his voice hoarse from screaming. He almost didn't believe that she was here, this was another dream.

'Of course I did.' She smiled.

They looked at each other for a minute then Izzy turned away.

'You need to eat.' She said. Hal nodded and while Izzy busied herself with something, Hal squinted at his surroundings, his head still groggy from sleep.

He noticed that the pain of the crosses was no longer there and glancing around he could see that they had all been covered up. How long had Izzy been here? She had been so angry when she had left, he had been certain that she would not come back. Now he knew that he was foolish to doubt, of course she would come back, she was Izzy. She was always there.

'So, how are you going to get me out of here?' He asked her.

'I'm not.' She replied, still busy.

'What?' Hal laughed, not sure what she was saying.

'At least, not yet anyway.'

'Izzy, you don't understand, I'm hungry, I need to-'

'That is why I made you this.' She turned around holding a small wooden bowl with something steaming inside and a spoon. Now that she had moved Hal could see a small fire with a pot positioned over it, also steaming. 'I stole some things from upstairs. I'm not a very good cook but I'm sure it will do. It's stew.' She said, holding out the bowl and spoon with a small smile.

A sudden anger, coupled with the pain of withdrawal came over Hal and he knocked the bowl out of her hands.

'I don't need fucking stew.' He hissed. 'I need blood.'

Izzy's smile vanished and it was replaced by the same cold expression that she had worn when she left him.

'Well good luck finding some because you're not getting any out of me.' She snapped.

Izzy took a moment to compose herself while Hal stared open mouthed at her. If she wasn't going to help him then why was she down here?

'So here's what's going to happen' said Izzy, returning her smile to her face, 'We're going to stay down here until you get the blood out of your system, until you're dry, and then-'

'Dry?' Hal exclaimed, it made sense now. 'Oh, God not this again.'

Izzy's mask slipped again. 'Well if you don't like it then somewhere out there there is a pyre and a bag of gunpowder with your name on it.'

'So you're holding my life to ransom now?' he asked, replicating her sharp tone.

'If that's what it takes.' She said, deadly serious. Hal frowned, she had changed. It was strange, almost sad to see that she was no longer the innocent, happy, playful, Shakespeare reciting, tone deaf girl she used to be but, he supposed, it was inevitable, over the past thirty years she had seen the truth of humanity in all its glory. _That_ changed them all in the end.

'Look Izzy, I can't go clean. I - I just can't.'

'No, you don't _think_ you can, you don't _think_ you want to but I know you, better than you even know yourself. Deep down you want to stop. Why else would you have those dreams?'

Hal looked up, anger bubbling. 'You've been in my head again, haven't you?'

'What are you going to do? Kill me?' She laughed but it sounded cold. 'Look, a man who is as evil as you say you are would love looking at those dreams. He would be proud and happy to see all of the terrible things he'd done. He wouldn't be scared or feel guilty. He wouldn't react the way you do. Please Hal, I want to help.'

Hal watched Izzy. She was being ridiculous again. There was no way he could ever go clean, no matter what truths Izzy may have just uttered, it was impossible, there was no point even attempting it. But, unless he said yes, he was sure that this "new Izzy" would leave him to burn so…

'Alright.' He said. He had never seen Izzy look so happy.

* * *

Hal didn't know how long he had been in that cellar. The days had all stretched into one long torture session. He found himself flitting in and out of consciousness. When he was asleep, the dreams came, he saw all their faces, remembered even the tiniest details, and they dragged him down into the deep red depths. When he awoke, sweating, shaking and, although he would never admit it, terrified, Izzy was always there and he was glad. She fed him, kept him clean, had to put up with torrents of abuse, but "new Izzy" was more resilient, more grown up, and all the threats and insults just bounced straight off.

He wondered how long they were going to keep doing this, how long until she was satisfied, how long until the pain stopped. It really was quite excruciating but, as he constantly reminded himself, it was better than being burnt at a stake.

It was one of those moments when Hal was on the brink of consciousness, numb from the agonising stabs of pain that had racked his body earlier and only just aware of his surroundings.

Izzy had obviously noticed him stirring because she was kneeling by her make-shift stove making more stew, she always had some ready for him when he woke up. It did little to calm the hunger for the real sustenance that he so greatly needed but he humored her, and, to be honest, it didn't really taste that bad.

Movement flickered in Hal's peripheral vision. Eyes rolling, he managed to make out the shape of the monk who had been visiting now and again, Hal didn't know his name but Izzy seemed to trust him.

Hal squinted, trying to get rid of the fuzziness of his vision. The monk was having a rushed conversation with Izzy. He looked worried and after a few moments, so did Izzy. Hal concentrated with all his might on listening to the conversation.

'What do you mean "they're on their way"? They _can't_ be, he's not ready, I - I need more time.' Izzy's voice was low but the panic was evident. Despite himself, Hal was oddly touched at her concern.

'Izzy,' Said the monk in an equally hushed and worried voice, 'it's been two weeks since they brought him in, the gunpowder's arrived, the pyre's been built, if we don't get him out of here now then he's toast. Literally.'

'But the blood isn't completely out of his system, he's still craving, if we leave now then he'll kill someone.'

'And if you don't then he will be killed. Look Izzy this is your choice. Do you believe in him?'

Hal held his breath. Surely Izzy would choose to save him, the old Izzy would, but what if new Izzy didn't?

'How are we going to get him out?' She asked, Hal exhaled. 'I mean, we could swaddle but he's hardly going to fit underneath my chemise. Unless…'

And that was how the great Sir Henry Yorke found himself huddled under the garb of a dead monk. He had protested, well, as much as he could in his semi-conscious state, but Izzy was insistent. She had quickly hid the remanence of her camp fire and removed all the coverings on the crucifixes, which had caused the amount of pain that Hal was experiencing to increase slightly though he was mostly protected by the ghostly garb.

When the priests and monks and other members of the mob that had hunted Hal down opened the door, they all flocked in, searching for him. Izzy spirited to the staircase to hold open the door and Hal and the monk shuffled awkwardly through it.

And as they made their way up the stairs and out of a side door and they heard the cries of outrage from the crypt below and Hal's lungs filled with his first breath of sweet fresh air in weeks, he felt the knot if anxiety in his chest finally loosen. Freedom.

* * *

**Thank you for reading :) x**

**I'm off on holiday tomorrow so I won't have my laptop back till Friday but hopefully I will have handwritten the final chapter by then *sobs***

**Reviews _very_ welcome. **


	18. The First Time

**I am chicka chicka back and I've brought with me the final proper chapter of Haunting Hal!**

**Very sad, I'll probably do a proper Oscar speech thing after the epilogue, tears and everything!**

**Thanks to 0positiv, paperclaire, brookesey and kate for the reviews.**

**************Thanks to anyone who has added me as story/author favourite/alert.**

**I don't own Being Human.**

**Enjoy x**

* * *

**Chapter 17: The First Time**

**13th November 1648**

'We should probably get going.' Said Izzy, looking up from the weakened man sitting, slumped against the wall beside her. His eyes were closed and his breathing was deep. The short walk up from the crypt had clearly taken it out of him. As soon as they had emerged from the side door of the church and Mark had released Hal from underneath his robes, the man had taken a huge sigh of relief and fallen to the floor before quickly scurrying out of the pool of sunlight that he realised he was lying in.

In the past week or so Mark had learnt that Izzy was right, this man was not human. He could see ghosts, crucifixes and sunlight harmed him and he craved blood. Mark had been unfortunate enough to walk into the crypt during one of Hal's 'less polite phases' as Izzy called them. During that time there was no doubt that Hal was not a man. In the dim light of the flickering candles and campfire Mark had seen black eyes and pointed teeth that looked like they belonged on the face of the devil himself. Mark had seen the monster to which Izzy had referred. The monster had spat and sworn, threatened and insulted and quite frightened Mark for a moment but Izzy's face had remained firm.

Mark admired her. Now he knew the truth of the Hal that Izzy knew, he understood her willingness to leave him to the mercy of the mob and it just made the fact that she had chosen to save Hal even more remarkable. Mark believed that everyone was capable of salvation but Izzy was right, he was young. He wondered wether he would still be capable of that kind of optimism in thirty years time.

The angry shouts from within the church seemed to get louder. Mark looked at Izzy.

'You should hurry,' he said, 'they aren't going to be happy if they find him, I think they were really looking forward to today. Stay off the main roads, away from people until you are far enough away from here.'

'We will.' Izzy smiled then dragged Mark into a would be rib cracking hug, much to his surprise. 'Thank you, for everything. It wasn't just Hal you saved.'

'Well, good luck for the future, I hope everything goes well for you.'

'Me too.' she smiled and Mark could see all the age in her blue eyes just vanish. She was different from the girl he had first met, watching coldly as Hal's body was dragged into the church, she was more like the girl he had seen in Hal's dreams. She was happy again.

Izzy grabbed Hal's right arm and draped it over her shoulders, pulling him into a standing position.

'Thanks again' she said.

Mark watched them until they disappeared over the horizon and sighed.

'All in a day's work.'

* * *

They walked for what felt like miles. Izzy needed to get Hal as far away from people as possible so that they could continue to get the rest of the blood out of his system although she wasn't entirely sure how to go about that yet, she would have to tie him to a tree or something, yes that might work.

They must have looked strange to a passer by, Izzy thought, or at least, Hal must have looked strange, marching along in a doze like state, eyes closed and head lolling, leaning on an invisible person. Izzy counted themselves lucky that the met no such passers by, for more reasons than one.

Izzy directed Hal up a hill, on top of which there was the ruin of an ancient castle, he needed to rest and that looked like a good place to find some shelter. There was no one there except some sheep, it aught to be safe.

She left Hal in the shade of one of the ruined walls and went to get him some water from the stream at the bottom of the hill.

It was while collecting water that she heard it, the scream that pierced the very air around her.

She spirited back to the castle, to the place where she had left Hal, terrified at what she would find. This could not be happening, he had come so far, so close, this could not be happening.

She walked around a derelict wall and there he was. Despite his weakened state, Hal had managed to overpower a young teenage boy and pin him against the wall.

Although young, the boy looked strong and brave and his face was oddly familiar to Izzy. She spotted a broken shepherd's crook on the floor and remembered it being brandished, two weeks ago, along with torches, pitchforks and crucifixes. He was a member of the mob. He must have seen Hal, recognised him and attacked, or the other way around.

Hal's fangs were bared, his eyes black as night, his mouth close to the boy's throat. The boy was struggling but Hal was too strong for him. Izzy had seen it a thousand times before, the boy wasn't going to get away.

The hopeless feeling that had been dormant since Izzy's first conversation with Mark, woke with a start and filled her chest with despair. She had been so stupid. Stupid to hope. Stupid to think that he could ever change. Hal was a monster, always had been. And she had just let him loose in the world. In saving him, she had damned everyone else and there was nothing she could do about it. She was as powerless now as she had been to stop him killing Maggie. In thirty years, nothing had changed. Like she had done so many times before, she turned away.

She expected to hear Hal's sigh of relief, his hunger finally satisfied. She expected to hear the boy's screams, the sound of tearing flesh, of breaking bone. She expected to see a ghost, lost and confused about what had just happened to him. What she didn't expect to hear, however, was the voice that she knew so well, pained and shaky, utter one word.

'Run.'

Izzy didn't dare turn around, she didn't dare believe it, she didn't dare hope. Those couldn't be the footsteps of the boy running home that she was hearing, it was just the sound of his heartbeat, slowly fading away. She couldn't hope.

'Izzy?' Hal's voice was strange. Quiet and shaky as it has been back in the crypt but containing something that Izzy hadn't heard from him since the Old Ones had first left London. Laughter, truly happy laughter. 'Izzy, turn around.' She didn't move, too scared to be disappointed. 'I did it. I didn't think I could do it but I did, I controlled myself.' He laughed. 'I actually did it! For God's sake Izzy, look at me!'

Slowly, she turned on the spot to see him, leaning against the wall, only just managing to keep upright, shaking and paler than ever but with a huge grin plastered on his face, a grin that was contagious.

'I never doubted you for a second.' Laughed Izzy, all hope returning. She flung her arms around his neck and held him tightly. He returned the embrace. Izzy could hardly believe it. After all this time, she had finally managed it, she had got him clean. She could finally see the man that she had always known was in there, Bet's son, the man who was worth saving.

* * *

Hal clung tightly to the 'almost solid' girl in his arms. He felt strangely light, like a weight had been lifted. He could not believe what he had just done. All this time, Izzy had been telling him that he was capable of change, that he could be saved but he had never believed it, never believed that it was possible for him. He had thought that part of him was long gone. He had made up lies, excuses, told himself that he was pure evil, to convince himself that he was right not to even try but just now, seeing the look of disappointment on Izzy's face when she saw him about to kill that boy, had given him strength that he didn't even know he had and he had been compelled to let the boy go.

And now, for the first time on his life, Hal felt free.

He stiffened. Over her shoulder, Hal had noticed something, a disturbance. It took him a while to figure out what it was and even when he did he was not willing to believe that it was true. But it was. Izzy's door was finally here.

Izzy had obviously noticed his sudden stillness and absence of laughter as she pulled away from the hug to look at his face. She asked him what was the matter but he couldn't say it, saying it made it real. He merely kept looking over her shoulder at the gateway to what happens next, Izzy's end, the end that he could never have.

Izzy turned around, following his line of vision and saw the door. She blinked and looked around, clearly looking for another ghost, one she would need to help pass over like she had done so many times before. For a moment, Hal wished she would find one, that it wasn't her door, that she could stay here, with him, forever. Now that Charles was gone, she was all he had left. But the more he looked at the door, the more he knew that it was hers, the end of her story and he knew that she could sense it too.

'I - I don't understand.' She stammered. 'My unfinished business, what was it?'

The answer came to Hal immediately.

'Me.' He whispered. 'You had to help me.' It was true, in all of his one hundred and sixty years, she had been the only one of his victims able to see past the monster, the only one capable of saving him.

She nodded. 'So this is really it then, is it?'

'Yes, I suppose it is.'

Izzy walked towards the door, reached out and touched the handle. 'It's cold.' She whispered. Hal watched as she went to turn the handle, he didn't dare breath, she was going, she was really going. After all the times that he had tried to make her disappear, now she was actually going and he didn't want her to. No, he was being selfish, she was going somewhere better. His dead heart nearly started again when she turned around.

'Hal, will you be alright?'

He felt a knot tighten in his stomach, she didn't mean 'would he be okay?' she ment 'would he be able to stay clean without her?' and the truth was, he didn't know. He felt fine now but what happens a year or ten down the line? No one can do it forever but he really didn't want to disappoint her.

'Of course I will.' He lied, he knew that if he said no then she would stay and he couldn't let her forgo her peace for him. 'You just go. This is what you wanted, this is your end.'

'Okay.'

'Izzy?'

'Mmm?'

'I'm sorry I killed you.' He realised he had never said it, it felt like something he should say now.

But Izzy laughed. 'No you're not, and neither am I. It's been a good thirty years… mostly. I've lived more since I died than I ever did before.'

'Alright, then I'm glad I killed you.' He smirked.

'Good.' She smiled and turned back to the door before turning around once more. 'Oh and Hal?'

'Yes?' he said, blinking away the tears that he had allowed to spill the second that she had turned her back.

She took a deep breath. 'It would be foolish of me to think that this, that you being dry was going to last. I know the feeling that blood gives you, I know how tempting it can be and I know you. I know that there is as much darkness inside of you as there is good and I know that eventually you will get bored and you'll need a change but when that happens, when you fail, please remember me, and try again, because I believe that if you keep trying then one day, you will win.'

The knot in Hal's insides lessened, she wouldn't mind, she understood, she had know what he was thinking. She knew him better than he knew himself. He nodded.

'Promise?'

'I promise.'

'Thank you.' She smiled, took a deep breath and turned the handle of her door. 'Goodbye Hal.'

'Goodbye Izzy.'

And her door shut behind her, leaving Hal alone. Alone to begin his new life, his change, the start of a new era and who knows, maybe Izzy was right. Maybe, one day he would win.

* * *

**So, I really hope you enjoyed my story.**

**Sorry if you found that ending depressingly predictable, I tried to make it as twisty as possible with the boy.**

**Epilogue up tomorrow or Sunday.**

**So, those of you who follow me on twitter will know that i went to Corfe Castle in Dorset yesterday and that was the inspiration for the setting for this chapter. It was such an amazing place, I could actually imagine Hal being there, it was like stepping into my own story! I even found the word "York" carved into a wall there! Weird or what?**

**Thanks everyone for reading, reviews _very_ welcome.**


	19. Epilogue

**So now we're back to the present with the epilogue. **

**Thanks to 0positiv and MancVamp for the reviews.**

**************Thanks to anyone who has added me as story/author favourite/alert.**

**And thanks to anyone who has been reading and has stuck with me till the end :)**

**I don't own Being Human.**

**Enjoy x**

* * *

**Epilogue **

Hal sat slumped in the chair. His hands were shaking, his wrists were raw and his clothes were drenched in sweat but he was smiling. Finally, after an hour and a half of struggling, the knife was in his hand. The knife that Alex had so kindly left on the stool beside him when she had stormed out following his rather well timed criticising of her potato peeling technique.

'Make your own bloody shepherd's pie then!' she had yelled before she rent-a-ghosted away. If he was honest he didn't really care, he had had enough ghost-made shepherd's pies to last him an eternity, for some reason they seemed to have a fascination with them, but none of that mattered now. He had the knife, he could cut himself free from this godforsaken piece of wood and then he could step out of this hell hole, back into the life he deserved. The life he knew. The life he wanted. Or did he? The seconds stretched into minutes as he stared at the knife in his shaking hand. Something an old friend had once said was slowly creeping its way forward from the deepest corners of his memory.

'This is the moment Hal, what you do now will change everything.' He bit his lip, this felt exactly the same as it did before, he knew what would happen if he went through with this, knew what he would become, was he really willing to waste the last 55 years? He bit down harder on his lip and accidently drew blood. It filled his mouth with its beautiful coppery taste and although he received no kick from his own blood, it was a taste, a promise of what would come if he chose to leave. He made up his mind.

He look a few deep breaths to steady his shaking hand and twisted the knife so that he could begin to saw through the thick leather belt around his wrist that was binding him to the chair. His breath quickened, knowing he was close to freedom but just as he was about to cut through the leather, he saw something move out of the corner of his eye. He glanced up, covering the knife with his hand, assuming Alex had returned and cursing himself for his moments hesitation but Alex was nowhere to be seen. Instead he saw something that drove her far from his mind.

His eyes widened and he very nearly dropped the knife. The television had flickered on and on the screen was a girl. She was wearing almost nothing. What remained of her undergarments were torn. Her long mousy brown hair flowed down her chest in ringlets and kept her dignity. Slowly she walked forward so that her head and shoulders filled the screen. She smiled. It was a beautiful, radiant smile. Her soft pink lips parted to reveal her perfect white teeth and wrinkles appeared at the corners of her penetrating, deep blue-green eyes that were looking straight into Hal's.

Hal stared at the girl, taking in every detail of her appearance. He knew her. He knew her hair and her lips and her teeth. He knew her eyes and her smile and her laugh. And he knew her neck.

'Izzy' he breathed. Her smile widened.

'Fifty-five years! I couldn't believe it when Leo told me. I thought ten, maybe twenty, but fifty? Wow, I'm impressed.'

'You've met Leo?' Hal asked.

'He is so proud of you. And so is Pearl, and Annie. And so am I.' Hal felt a pang of guilt, he looked down at his right hand, which was still clutching at the knife. Izzy's eyes followed his, her smile saddened. 'Don't spoil it now.'

Hal tore his eyes away from the knife to look into hers. Into the eyes that knew him better than he even knew himself. Over the centuries he has both loved and despised those eyes. So deep. So wild. The colour of the sea. He remembered the last time he had seen them, how they had swam with tears then too as she had passed over, leaving him alone in the world. He remembered times he had cursed her for leaving him, for putting stupid ideas in his head, times he had laughed at her and her naivety that she could ever think he could change and times he had cried, missing her. But in nearly four centuries he had never once broken his promise. He had always remembered her.

'I didn't hear the magic word.' He whispered, a smile playing on his lips.

Izzy laughed. He hadn't realised how much he missed that laugh. 'Please.'

'Sorry?' He laughed back.

'Please.'

He dropped the knife.

Izzy smiled again. Her tears did what they had been threatening to do from the start and spilled down her cheeks but he could tell they were tears of happiness. Slowly her face was swallowed by static, her eyes were the last things to vanish.

'I'll be watching' she said.

Hal was still smiling when the door opened as Tom arrived home from work. Alex was with him.

'Y'alright, mate?' Asked Tom, 'Only Alex said you were in a bit of a mood earlier.'

'I'm fine, really.' Replied Hal, blinking away his tears. 'Alex, I'm very sorry about what I said.'

'Well, so long as you're sorry…' she teased 'I suppose I should finish peeling these-' she stopped. She had noticed the knife on the floor and the partially cut strap around Hal's wrist. Tom had noticed it too.

'Hal?' Tom whispered.

'I'm fine.' Hal repeated with a reassuring smile. 'So, how about that shepherds pie?'

Tom and Alex looked from him to each other then back to him.

'Spuds.' Alex said and rent-a-ghosted into the kitchen. The knife flew up off the floor and followed her.

'Ya sure y'alright?' asked Tom, sitting himself down on the sofa. Hal could see the concern in his eyes, so familiar to what he had seen in Izzy's all those years ago.

'Never better.' Hal smiled.

He would win.

* * *

**:')**

**Ok, brace yourself, it's Oscar speech time. This has been such a ride for me and I am so grateful for everyone that has read, reviewed and enjoyed this story. There are just a few special people I want to thank.**

**Firstly, I would like to thank all of the Being Human bloggers. Izzy was born through a conversation on the blog about the ghosts of vamp victims.**

**Next to SAINTIXE56 who gave me my first ever review and has helped me lots with historical information. And to Rideawhitehorse for also helping me with historical info, I can't believe that it was nearly three months ago that we were discussing 17th century underwear on twitter!**

**Special recognition to brookesey, the reviewer with the most enthusiasm :)**

**A huge thank you to 0positiv who has reviewed EVERY chapter since the beginning, she has been amazing!**

**Of course huge credit must go to Lord Toby Whithouse and anyone who works on Being Human for bringing us this fantastic show and to a certain irish actor for his portrayal of my new favourite character (can you guess who?)**

**And finally a big thank you to anyone who is reading, if you have reviewed or not, thanks for sticking with me. **

**Ok, sorry about that, I got a little bit excited, first fic coming to an end and all.**

**I hope you all enjoyed the epilogue and for the last time (for now) reviews _very_ welcome :) x**


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